A DATE BEFORE THIS ADVENTURE
Silver Rush, Freeside
Adam stood off to the side, watching all the Van Graff muscle filter out of the Silver Rush. He was a few minutes early for a meeting with Gloria and had spent the time sharing stories about his conquests in the Mojave. The door guard, young, was entertained by the stories, especially as they began to mention women closer to where they were. However, once the stories began to mention Gloria his interest waned. His boss' name combined with the killers that were stepping outside didn't seem like a good combination while Adam was describing how nasty she could be. There was a silent acknowledgement of this, one that made Adam quiet until one of the men addressed him.
"She's waiting on you."
"She sound excited?" Adam threw his hips hand before they could respond. "I know, I know. She says it never happened, right?"
"Right, he fought off a smile."
They liked Adam. Laughing at his jokes only came with the knowledge that Gloria would not find out about it. He was a welcomed break from the incessant attention to detail that their employer practiced on a regular basis.
"Trust me," Adam was halfway through the door. "It happened."
The store was guarded by a skeleton crew. A well armed skeleton crew, but a skeleton crew all the same. Gloria waved Adam over with a business smile tattooed into her face. He knew that face. It meant that she wanted him to do something dirty and didn't quite trust the in-house help enough to get it down without a certain amount of screw ups.
"I thought you didn't want to see me ever again." Adam sat at the corner of the display which Gloria stood behind. "Times change, eh?"
"I find myself in need of a specific skill set." Gloria was monotone. "You're the most cost efficient.
"I'm the cheapest?"
"You're the cheapest." She flashed a genuine smile.
"Right" Adam put his hands together and rubbed. "So which itch do you need me to scratch? The murdering one?"
"That would be the one." Gloria shifted back into business mode. "They'll brief you outside, I just needed to be sure that you were all there."
"I don't think so."
"Excuse me?"
"You want me to run with the boys? That's fine." Adam stood and leaned in to face Gloria. "But I'm not going to take orders from the shit-for-brains muscle you hire to walk around a fucking store all day carrying expensive weapons."
Gloria stood silent, arms folded beneath her breasts.
"So, either you give me the rundown yourself or you're going to have to let the swinging dick brigade out there fuck up another job."
"You're a real piece of work, Adam."
"Do you know why I cost you so little, Gloria?"
"Because you want to fuck me?"
He smirked. "It's because I enjoy it Gloria. It makes my dick harder than hearing Mrs or seeing a wedding ring."
Gloria let an audible sigh loose.
"So, again, unless you want some chronic fuck up handling your business I suggest you start opening that mouth of yours and spitting out information."
The man was grating when he wanted to be. They both knew that she could nod her head and he'd be a pile of dust on the floor, but that wouldn't happen. She needed him for this and likely a dozen other jobs afterward. The fact of the matter was the bastard always managed to come through – or at least not screw things up as badly as others did.
"Fine," She cleared her throat. "You know about the competition with all of the caravans don't you? It's gotten pretty rough out there as of late. The old McLafferty lady decided she'd rather not use up all of her resources so she came to us. Do you understand now? Is this something you had to hear from my mouth?"
Adam shrugged. "The targets?"
"Cassidy Caravans, Durable Dunn's and Griffin Wares."
One of them was familiar to him. He didn't mention it. "Okay."
"Do you care how it looks?" Adam added.
"No, she's not paying enough for that."
Adam lingered, waiting to see if Gloria would give in to some hidden desire to punch him square in the face. It didn't happen. He blew her a kiss. She didn't react. That was the end of their exchange. He walked out of the building to the group of men and they departed together.
"You know," One of the swinging dicks spoke up. Adam nicknamed him minuteman in his head. "One of the guys brought up you and Gloria the other day."
"Yeah?"
"Yep," Minuteman stared down over the road, bored. "He went into all of the nasty details you usually do."
"Not a good idea."
"That's what I was thinking, but he was drunk as all hell."
Adam kept his answers short. "Sounding extra stupid."
"Exactly." Minuteman took his eyes off of the road and pulled his plasma rifle into his lap. "Everybody knows there are just some things that you don't talk about, but he just kept running his mouth."
"Kind of like now." Adam muttered.
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
"Oh. Well, Gloria did him right then and there." Minuteman used his hands for extra emphasis.
"Was she screaming?"
"Nope."
"Was she really into?"
"Uh, I guess not."
"Moaning?"
"Nope." Minuteman did a double take. "Wait, what?"
"And here I thought this story would have some pay off." Adam's attention had already shifted elsewhere; his eyes had always been on the road but his mind was in a different place. The ambush was supposed to take place an hour ago. "Are you guys sure this is the road?"
"This is the one Gloria gave us."
As much as Adam didn't think much of their ability to think on their feet, the 'swinging dick brigade' members were efficient killers. It was hard not to be with the weapons and armor they carried. There was a reason that when anyone walked into the Silver Rush they left with their pants down around their ankles and Gloria had a smile.
"There we go." Adam set his sights far down the road and laid his eyes on the slow moving caravan. "Tell your friends I've got eyes on."
Minuteman did what he was told.
The caravan, Cassidy's, moved at such a leisurely pace that Adam was tempted to engage them from extreme range. He fought a winning back with resistance on the rooftop and waited until the small caravan engaged the Van Graff muscle in dialogue. He imagined to what they were saying.
"Odd seeing you well armed gentlemen blocking the road." The caravaneer would open up with. He would probably be the trusting sort. Who else would continue on a road blocked by armed men?
"Well, you see," Tallfornothing—that was the nickname Adam gave him—began to explain. "We're here to make sure you go out of business today."
"For shame." Dismayed, the caravaneer would go on. "But my boss isn't even here?"
"Well where is the lady?"
He'd shrug. "I don't know."
Adam had begun to form a complex narrative in his head that was full of drama and plot twists when the entire group of Van Graffs began to discharge their weapons simultaneously. The flurry of laser fire reduced the caravneer to ashes in a matter of seconds before they turned their eyes on the brahmin tugging a supply cart. The creature received a more ceremonious end with a single shot to the head. They were certainly good at pulling the trigger. The group began to make a mess of the scene, pushing over the cart and rummaging through the crates.
"Class acts." Adam thought aloud.
"Would you rather they tell him he's about to die so he can shoot himself instead?"
True enough. He was cut down in seconds, there was probably only a half second of realization before he was dead. Most people weren't lucky enough to have that quick of an end. With his rifle slung over hi s shoulder Adam began to make his way down the rope they'd use to climb up to the roof. Minuteman followed.
By the time Adam reached the remains of the caravan anything worthwile had already been gone through. The caravaneer wouldn't have had a chance to do anything even if he had the knowledge that he was going to be ambushed beforehand. It was a wholesale slaughter and not even the brahmin was spared when the dust cleared.
"Could've left a few mines on the road and get the job done," Adam cleared his throat and spat on the side of the road. "Why are we here, again?"
Minuteman shrugged. "You're getting paid, what do you care?"
Again, Minuteman appeared to be much smarter than the rest of his friends.
Adam shrugged and kicked open a crate to see if there was anything worth salvaging; when caps were tight you took whatever you could get, even if that meant collecting rusty cans.
"I don't." A delayed response.
The second stop was largely the same as the first. The swinging dick brigade had no problems unloading on an unprepared caravan. While Adam was further annoyed at the lack of anything remotely resembling a worthy target, he went on to the third location with the rest of the men. Two groups formed, Adam and Minuteman with the rest of the group standing twenty feet ahead of them. They stayed this way until they reached the third location.
"What was it that Gloria said to you?" Minuteman hadn't been quiet for more than five minutes the entire trip. "I mean, you probably could've done this by yourself, why come out with all of us?"
Adam shrugged. "Good caps are good caps, that's all you really need to know about it."
"Maybe…"
Minuteman was cut off while Tallfornothing turned around and called out to them. "We're setting up shop here."
"Ugly spot." Adam returned.
"Yeah, well," He shrugged. "This isn't the spot; we're just waiting for someone else here."
Waiting for someone else? They'd been instructed to divulge everything to him or as it became clear, everything Gloria wanted him to know. The group gathered between two wooden bridges and started a fire, night was coming.
"Anyone in particular?"
"How about the Garret sister?" Another nameless thug. "How'd you manage that one with the brother always being around the place?"
"She wanted it more than I wanted the notch on my belt?"
"Bullshit she did." Tallfornothing interrupted. "That bitch is as cold as ice all day, every day."
"Well. I'm sure she was so taken aback by your charm that she couldn't quite find the words for you." Adam grinned.
The group laughed at Tallfornothing's expense.
"I didn't even know she had a boyfriend, she's always working—running the business, how does find the time for a guy?" Minuteman asked.
"Don't know. She brought it up while we were talking."
"Maybe she just said it because she knows how you get over women with attachments to other guys." Adam named this one brains.
"Maybe." Adam acknowledged him. "I was too busy looking elsewhere to look into it."
The conversation revolving around the women Adam had been with went on for an hour before anyone in the group realized it. Most of the time was spent discussing Primm and how he had managed to not get his head blown off after sticking it to the Sheriff's wife. The visitor arrived at the tail end of the story.
"That's the problem with women married to law enforcement and soldiers," Adam paused to finish off his water. "They don't realize they're married to every crook and war their husband comes cross or goes off to fight."
As the newest member of the group walked up the swinging dick brigade shifted their attention from Adam to greet him. Their sudden turn to pleasantries to acknowledge who appeared to be nothing more than a crimson caravan guard stuck with him, although when it came time for him to give a handshake he obliged the man. His grip was weak; a universally frowned upon trait. The feeling that if they weren't wearing gloves his hands would be moist could not be shaken, this man was a liability through and through.
Adam leaned over to Minuteman and whispered. "Who the fuck is that?"
"That's uh," Minuteman scratched at his head. "McLafferty's nephew or something like that. Was itching for action so she's tagging along for the last one."
"Great."
The nephew, as Adam dubbed him, was the overly excited type. All he needed to do was sit back and not point is gun in the wrong direction and everything would take care of itself. The problem was that he wasn't going to sit back and let the professionals handle everything. He wanted to get out in front, scream and fire off as many rounds as he could before the smoke cleared, but he wanted to do it against a target that wasn't going to have the opportunity to shoot back. He'd probably carry the story back to his friends and brag about all of the kills he'd managed to get.
The night dragged on and Adam no longer felt like sharing any of his stories, not with the nephew trying to inject his own brand of humor. There was nothing more uncomfortable than a nervous laugh than someone telling jokes who didn't realize that the laughs were in fact nervous.
Sleep came sooner than expected. Adam didn't stray from the warmth of the fire. He slept with one hand on his pistol and the other on his knife. Eventually, the entirety of the swinging dick brigade followed suit. Adam was a light sleeper, the rest of the men weren't.
The sound of a brahmin approaching caused Adam to stir. The rest of the men were still asleep, they hadn't posted a sentry. A grenade struck the dirty in the middle of the camp. Adam shot up and yelled, the men woke, some snapped to attention others fought off the grogginess of sleep.
Adam lunged for the grenade and threw it back in the direction it came. It struck the brahmin and went off. Groaning, the creature slid down the minor decline and began to die. Nephew scrambled, Minuteman grabbed his rifle and Tallfornothing grabbed his throat.
Tallfornothing was dying, blood drenching his fingertips while it squeezed through the cracks—his hand would never be tight enough to stop the bleeding. The opposition was close enough to warrant the use of a pistol, Adam never bothered to grab his rifle. Nephew was panicking, unsure of where to point his gun; he aimed at Adam—the only man on their side that wasn't wearing black armor like the Van Graffs.
Adam shot first, twice, sending Nephew tumbling back—he died before he hit the ground, the 10mm bullets punched through his heart. The men were already c leaning up the ambush when they realized what had happened. Piles of ash, bodies and the albatross that would eventually be fixated around Adam's neck covered the campsite.
Great.