CHAPTER 11

New Friends, New Problems

"So, how's the new loadout?" Ashley asked Hunter as he exited the store after an hour. She left to find some more jobs, which failed. Hunter had an interchangeable vest over his combat armor; a special holster with his .44 in it was on his left side chest. In his left hand was desert camo helmet held by the strap with a funny looking plate on the front. The five ammo pouches were filled with three clips apiece.

"Well, it's pretty comfy, also useful." He said, tightening a side strap of the vest. "Mick said this was found by a prospector in Utah, traded it for food and ammo." Ashley looked him over.

"No gun?" She asked, a little surprised when she finished.

"I was getting to that." He answered with a grin. He went back in to the store for a few minutes and came back out with a 4 foot case. He set it on a nearby barrel and flipped the clamps on the case. It opened and he pulled out a rifle. It had the looks of the service rifles that the NCR used. But this had a matte black finish, Curved out front sights and two clips in it already, one taped on the other, upside down.

"A tricked out service rifle, not many will be impressed with it." Ashley told him with an eyebrow raised. Hunter shook his head.

" The service rifle was obsolete by the Great War, in the months before the bombs were dropped, the U.S was issuing these to National Guardsmen, They called them M16s, able to fire semi-auto, Burst, and fully automatic." He held it in front of Ashley. "Wanna feel?" He asked. She took it from him, nearly dropping it when he let go.

"Whoa, heavier than I thought." She said, handing it back. Hunter took out a strap out from the case and hooked a clip on the stock. He put the loop around his neck like a necklace.

"Let's go make some caps!" Hunter said, starting to walk. Ashley caught up to him as he rounded the corner when two thugs in rags, one with a eye patch over his right eye with a bandana tied to his head wielding a lead pipe and a scrawny kid about 20 pulled out a straight razor. Ashley reached for one for her revolvers when Hunter shouldered the M16 and squeezed off two rounds; one in the small man's head and the other in arm with the pipe.

"Ah!" He screamed, cradling his right arm. He glanced at the man dead on the crumbled sidewalk. Rage filled his eyes at his body, and reached behind him, and pulled a 9mm and pointed it at Hunter checking an alleyway for more thugs. All he was able to do was to raise it to his eyes to aim before Ashley fired a round into his chest. He spat up blood and slumped over his comrades legs, with a gurgling death sound.

"Holy shit," Hunter whispered, shaking his head, "Nearly got killed by a dumb mistake. Especially one that I made for that survival guide."

"That's for saving me in Boulder City." The redhead said, searching the eye patched man. She found a worn leather pouch on the body. Standing up, she untied the string that sealed it and looked in it.

"These guys have a good chunk of the passport fund filled, 400 caps." Ashley said, dumping the caps in a pocket of her bandolier.

"Wait, I thought it was 2000 PER person." Hunter asked, checking the other man.

"Wouldn't hurt for everyone to have a good time, eh?" Ashley replied, grinning. "If you want to find Butch, go to the King's. He went to join them." Ashley said as she brushed some hair away form her eyes. She started to walk ahead toward a fort a few blocks away.

"Wait!" Hunter yelled to her. "How I'm gonna find it?" Ashley turned around, but still walked.

"Go left a block short of the fort and turn left and stay on it till you see a bus with the doors open. Walk through it; it's the building on the left with a bunch of guys with slicked hair." And with that, she left.

Hunter found only 220 caps on the smaller man, but he took the 9mm and slid it in the .44's old holster, an awkward fit, but it worked. He started to walk, following Ashley's instructions. He turned at the street that she said to turn at. It all was a quiet trip; only a few locals were out at the time. Thankfully, no thugs tried to mug him. The bus soon appeared on the left.

Hunter walked through the bus and was greeted by a large boulevard heading to the Lucky 38, still as stunning in the day. As he walked into the Kings home, members were staring at him, some with curiosity, and some with glares. He figured to talk to the most important looking person, which wasn't very off. Although he wasn't very friendly

"Can you help me find Butch Deloria?" Hunter asked him.

"The King knows who's all joined, but he wouldn't want to see you." The king said. Thinking fast, Hunter pulled out his caps pouch.

"How's 50 caps sound to me- I mean to donate to the king and maybe see him?" the gang member thought for a second, and replied.

"Maybe the King does need to see you. Follow me." He stood from the wall and led Hunter to a door, which he opened to a large room with a stage on the side opposite form the side they entered from. He was led to a man that had a white suit on sitting by the stage. By his side, a dog with most of his body replaced with robotic parts.

"Well, I here you want to find Butch, huh?" The King said to Him. He nodded. "He's here, but,"

"You would like something done, right?" Hunter said.

"Yes. Lately newcomers hire bodyguards to walk through Freeside. Good caps, but there's a guard that once someone hires, they always have him as a guard. Now I wouldn't care, but some of my boys are losing their livelihood."

"So you want to have me to hire him and see if he's the real deal."

"Yep, here's 200 caps to cover his hiring." The king said handing Hunter a pouch of caps. He took it and put it in one of his vest's empty ammo pouches.

"I'll be back in a few hours." And Hunter left the Kings hideout.

When the Lone Wanderer exited the building, locals were running to the north, making Hunter clench to his M16.

"Hey." He said, stopping a King's member, "What's going on, where's everyone going?"

"Trevor's back. He's a local superstar, almost more famous as the king!" The ganger answered. Without another word, he followed the rest of the group down 3 blocks. A large crowd was formed around a clearing that was 30 X 30 feet roughly. A loud air chopping made hunter raise his rifle to the sky, fearing an enclave vertibird. But it was different; it had a rotor on top of a body that resembled a boat's hull. A tail about 10 feet with a second rotor at the end along with a triangle shape tail. The whole thing painted in a desert camo design with a blond woman with tight fitting leather leggings and sand colored underwear and Halter top with the words "DESERT ROSE" underneath her on the back of the sides.

The helicopter came lower till the skids touched down, and as the engine whined down, Hunter saw the pilot step out the chopper. He was the same height as Hunter, messed up jet black hair with blue-green eyes, Normal enough face. He wore a set of armor resembling NCR armor but with medals on the sleeves and the NCR patches torn off. People cheered as he shook hands with a couple. Then the crowd slowly dispersed and Hunter walked up to him.

"Howdy." The pilot said, opening a toolbox. "Name's Trevor and this is the desert rose, the only helo in the Mojave."

"I'm Hunter," he started but was cut off.

"Wait, "The Lone Wanderer" Hunter?" Trevor asked, earning him a nod. "So you're the one Butch Talks about at the wrangler."

"So you know Butch too, small wasteland."

"I need to ask you something," Trevor asked looking from his toolbox

"Shoot." Hunter said.

"Can I join you?" The pilot asked. Hunter's eyebrow rose.

"Why? You seem to have it made here in Freeside."

"Well, The NCR wanted me to join them, but I refused and one night in the wasteland I camped because I can't fly at night and 4 troopers tried to steal my helicopter. They're dead and I took the armor off one." He explained

"What else do you do in the helicopter and on foot?" Hunter asked

"I can serve as a spotter above and if you need some support, I can mount miniguns on the little stubs on her. Oh and I'm good at repairs and with explosives." Trevor listed with a smile. Hunter held out his hand.

"You're hired. Welcome." Trevor shook his hand. "We're not leaving Freeside for awhile so you can go and rest." Trevor nodded and focused back to the helicopter and Hunter left to find that bodyguard for the King.

MEANWHILE

Orris stood by the north Freeside gate, fresh from a "hard" run to the New Vegas Gate for 250 Caps. His thoughts broke when a man cleared his throat. He had a pre war fedora on with a dirtied white suit.

"Would you like to hire me to escort you to the strip?" the man pulled out a old wallet that jingled with caps.

"Yes, but not for protection on the way there, I have a proposal for you." The man said, handing Orris 200 caps.

"Right, follow me." He said after taking the caps.

After passing the bus to the boulevard to the strip, the man started talking.

"There will be a man with a black rifle that says he's out of ammo, and asks to hire you. Let him and lead him to that alley with what you usually do. But capture him and bring him to me here," he said, handing Orris a piece of paper. "You'll receive 2,750 caps at the end of this venture. Do you accept this job?" Orris didn't have to think when he heard the caps.

"You're on." He said reaching the strip. The man shook his hand and entered the strip.

The strip, here I come. Orris thought on the way back to the north gate.

A/N:

I'm back! Sorry for the month of delay. A mix of Finals, computer malfunctions and overall high school has delayed this story. Also I'd like to thank you all that has red this and fav'd it, But please, review. I mean l'd like to see what you guy's like about it, say what's wrong or suggestions to help it in the long run.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Northern 484