Chapter XX:
Bright and Early
Benny
Nothing quite like a proper dame and her loving touch to get you back on your feet. I wrapped the bathrobe around my ever so fabulous body as I admired Charlene's ever so delicate and ravishing figure. Her milky white skin smooth as a baby, hair blacker than coal and finer than silk. Mmm hmm, nice in all the right places. She looked up at me with those wondrous purple eyes of hers and I gave her the most charming smile money could buy.
"Thank you Charlene," putting forth all the gratitude I could muster in all so simple of words, "I really needed that."
She gave me her oh so classic pussy cat smile, her eyes playing dazzle with my brain.
"Always a pleasure, Mr. Reeves."
"And I tell you again, call me Benny; my diamond in the rough."
I knew the drill. Charlene was a woman of the highest order and bill. So fine and classy. But along with that package came along some greatly unneeded discipline and grace in her manners. Always professional around her clients.
"Of course Mr. Reeves."
"Ahh."
I waved a friendly hand towards her as I moved to the balcony to stare out at my kingdom. The rising star of the sun shining down on my Sinners Paradise. Trust me when I say this; but I ain't understating that fact. And it is a fact. Soon this towns going to be bowing down to a new ruler; one who's going to give the power right back where it needs to be.
I heard a knock at the door. I knew who it was.
"Come in Yes Man!"
Sure enough, my ace in the hole came rolling in; ever so jolly as usual.
"Good Morning, Mr. Reeves," he boomed out, "oh hello, Ms. Jin."
"Yes Man," she curtseyed without moving a single line out of her beautiful positioning, "still as chipper as I remember."
"Oh yes, Ms. Jin. I am programmed to always be cheerful and chipper. Why I doubt there's a mean wire in my hard drive.'
"Yes Man," I called to my rather talkative 'friend', "is it decrypted and is Swank coming up?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Reeves. Why he's in the elevator right now and will be here in exactly 15 seconds."
"Did he bring the 1948 Che'laret?"
"Your wish was my command, Mr. Reeves!"
"Good. Been saving that bottle for the day our fortunes would change," I grinned down at Charlene, "In more ways than one."
She smiled her wicked smile back, and I almost wanted to take her swinging again. But business is business. Then I heard the ding of the elevator and the steps that followed. Sure enough, the one man who'd been at my side since we'd been kids, never doubted my word once and had a head and hairstyle shaped like a block of wood. But don't let that be an insult; man's smarter than I could ever be with money or logistics.
I'm just the one with the imagination and drive to make our vision to come true. He however made sure I had a ground to leap from to claim my ever so shining blue moon.
"Sorry about last night, Swank. I was in a bit of a rush."
"Perfectly understandable boss. I'd be like that too if I'd been crazy enough to run from Securitrons with machine guns."
I smiled at that.
"Lady Luck favors the bold."
"But curses the dead. Hey Jin."
"Hello Swank."
He wasn't even fazed by her current status on the bed. He'd seen her enough times in her truer form the many other occasions he'd walked in on us concluding business. He coughed slightly:
"I hate to be rude, Ms. Jin…"
"Oh I understand. Man Talk."
I couldn't help but give her a nice slap on her fine assets as she stood. Earned me a little giggle. What can I say? For a Scottish man playing a Brit, he had class. Quickly she got dressed and was out the door.
"Until next time, Charlene."
"Until next time, Benn—Mr. Reeves."
I smiled a little and she was out the door. I went to my bar, and grabbed us a couple glasses.
"So, you care to tell me what all this was about?"
"Yes Man?"
"With pleasure sir. What Mr. Reeves recovered was a portable data storage chip, constructed October 23rd, 2077 by RobCo Industries in Sunnyvale, California at the personal request of Mr. Robert House."
"Jeez, that was the day the bombs fell."
"Yup. Talk about delayed delivery. Continue Yes Man."
"As of a year ago, our Mr. House ordered the salvaging through our agents of the Sunnyvale IT center. One month ago, the Platinum Chip was discovered."
"So you're telling me House's been waiting two centuries to get his hands on this chip?"
"It would appear so, my friend. Now Yes Man, what have you discovered on the chip?"
"To be metaphorical sir, the fate of New Vegas."
"What about the literal?"
"This chip contains an enormous packet of data. Included within it are Software installation codes, hard drive manifestation Trojan Horse Viruses, Schematics…"
"In English?"
"To be more blunt, Mr. Carson, it would allow Mr. Houses Network to hijack and take control over all major power, control, broadcast and connection centers throughout the entire Mojave."
"Like what?"
"Like Hoover Dam, Helios One, Andrews Air Force Base, the Hidden Valley Complex Center… among other things."
"Jeez. So this would mean he'd control the Mojave? That's Checkmate material right there."
"There is more."
"Do share, Yes Man. I did almost die getting this so I'd like to know what it was for."
"The access codes also possess a key Military Grade upgrade soft key."
"Upgrade to what?"
"To all Securitron's currently under Mr. House's control. Including another thousand hidden underneath Edwards Military Stockpile."
This time it was my turn to be surprised.
"Holy Moses. You're telling there's an army at the Fort? Right under Caesar's nose?"
"Yes Mr. Reeves. They are located in a hidden bunker purchased by Robert House in 2073."
"So not only would he control the land, he'd be able to enforce it! Benny—"
"This is our chance, Swank," I smiled as moved over to the table, "our shot to live like Gods and give back to the Mojave everything House has stole."
"I don't know, Benny," Swank always the pragmatist, "I mean what are we gonna be even able to do with this chip?"
"Kill House, obviously."
"Yeah but," he pointed out the window, "he built all that. None of it would've been possible without him."
"After he slaughtered anybody who didn't agree with him and strong armed everybody else? I mean look at Freeside!"
"I thought you hated Freeside."
"I hate what it's become. Farkas and her do-gooders are barely able to keep the place from bleeding dry and they gotta rely on the Kings of all things to keep order. All the while jackboot punks like the Van Graff's take root. I hate them more than I did Big Sal. Sal at least knows how to play by the rules. It could've been like this place, Swank. It should be like this."
"When did you become such a philanthropist?"
"We grew up on Fremont ave., Swank. Now look at it."
"I see the thing I don't want to ever live in again. We gotta a good thing going here."
"Living like slaves? When has anything you ever purposed about the economics of Vegas ever been allowed to be pushed through? We only sit here, 'cause our tribe was easy to control and manipulate."
"We were lucky."
"Lucky to be bound to a machine two hundred years outta touch. He's from the Old World, Swank. He's got no place in the New. You and me Swank. We can build something better. Be truly New Vegas, not his dead Las Vegas. Give the people what they want, and we can get something out of it besides money or vice."
"And what's that?"
"A Legacy. Benny Reeves and Swank Carson, the men who saved New Vegas. We'd be the Founding Fathers of a new nation made of Free Men, not tyrants."
Swank stared long and hard at the Che'laret, peering into his reflection. Then he nodded and rose.
"Benny, you crazy son of a bitch, you've convinced me."
"Good. Now pour me some of that fine goodness."
House
In all my centuries of living, I have found that humans are more often than naught incapable of every agreeing on anything remotely regarding the concept of ideas. Especially when they think there's will work more efficiently than their opponents. Take the concept of the most useful weapon in war. In 2065, General Constantine Chase of the US Army firmly believed in the concept of mechanized foot soldiers individually capable of the doing the work of an armored formation; despite the fact that as his friend and colleague I'd purposed that the manufacturing of a robotic army would have been far more useful, and cheaper. Alas the General was a true soldier; putting his faith in actual men with boots on the ground.
It was however a decade later when he changed his mind… after the bloody stalemates forming along his fronts in Shanghai, Hong Kong, the Gobi Desert and Anchorage, Alaska. Like all desperate military men, he attempted to rectify his mistake through a wunderwaffe. A wonder weapon. He poured millions of dollars, thousands of workers, hundreds of scientists and exactly four years worth of work which all amounted to an oversized robot sitting in a hangar never to be unleashed. Once again ignoring my advice.
It is not the newest gadget that wins wars or conquers civilizations. It is information. What is the sword without the knowledge to use it? What is a bomb without knowing where to use it? To coin an old phrase: Knowledge is power.
Already it has proven its worth to me once again.
"Now pour me some of that fine goodness."
If I could I would smile. Long ago I'd learned that Mr. Reeves's greatest weakness was his vice for women. It hadn't taken much to find the right one to suit both our needs. And now Ms. Jin was proving her worth.
"So what's our next step, Benny?"
"Now that Yes Man has decoded the disk, I'm gonna go and get Julie involved."
"I don't know. Getting the Followers in on this could invite a whole lotta trouble."
"The Followers know people. People with tech. If we're gonna use this thing to our advantage, we need the right equipment to use it."
"I get it. I just don't like putting our chances with those do-gooders."
"Do-gooders they may be, but I trust Julie. She's got Outer Vegas in mind."
"We'll need to get the other families in on this. They control the rest of the Strip that we don't."
"Marjorie can be convinced. But Mortimer might be a problem."
"I'm more concerned about Big Sal. The bastard maybe greedy, but he knows when the waters are churned. The moment we take out House, they'll make their own grab for turf."
"Which is why we need to get our hands on House's Securitrons and the army under the Fort. With them, we'd be able to take control of the city."
"And what of the NCR and Legion? Even with a thousand Securitrons, we'd never hope to fight them both off."
"I don't plan to. The NCR when it comes to it is a toothless coyote. Oh they'll growl and prance, but the moment they start losing they'll roll over."
"They've been trying to take this place for almost a decade now. They won't go without a fight."
"By the time they've finished kicking the hell out of Caesar's boys, they'll be too weak to stop us. As I said, they'll roll over."
"You better be right. The cost of this war if even one thing goes wrong would be enough to put us out of business."
"Swank, when have I ever been wrong?"
I spoke through the closed communication line to my agent.
"Ms. Jin, I've heard enough."
"Sir, I'm in the perfect position to eliminate Mr. Reeves. Do you wish me to proceed?"
My mind went through the dozens of equations and simulations. Knowing Ms. Jin's skill as an escort and her methods of possible assassinations; the odds did not look favorable. In the end, I knew I'd trained Benny far too well. He would see this coming. I would need an unknown element; something that he would not expect.
And I already had someone in mind.
"No, Ms. Jin. Continue your observations and report any new findings."
"Yes sir."
The line of communication closed and exactly three seconds more than expected my Chief of Operations spoke his equally expected protests, his voice slow and deliberate with emphasis on his every meaning:
"Robert… you're making a grave mistake here."
With the channel closed, I could resume my electronic façade on my control monitor; of which I peered down upon my mercenary friend.
"As you have told me the last 31 occasions, Mr. Cortez."
The ghost of a smile passed by the aged and craggy face:
"And of which I will remind you a thousand more if necessary."
Samuel Cortez, formerly a Captain of the late President Richardson's Tesla Corp, had been under my employ for the past ten years. Despite approaching the later part of his life, Cortez was an invaluable ally. He could quite marvelously outfight and outsmart countless opponents a quarter his age. He and his mercenaries had always been those I could delegate my delicate matters to and expect an outstanding accomplishment. However, this and the countless other… challenges, would require talent beyond Mr. Cortez and his men.
Even if he disputed such facts.
"Robert, may I remind you of Charlene's capabilities. You did put a great deal of money in ensuring she was up to the part. And if she isn't… my Gunners are more than capable of the task."
"And as I explained, Mr. Cortez, there is a far more pressing matter than just Mr. Reeve's betrayal."
His Germanic ancestral blue eyes glared up at me in his typical motive of annoyance, which was followed by his secondary display of the emotion by rubbing his hand through his shaven scalp down to the man's pure white beard.
"If you'd allowed me take the hunt to Goodsprings, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Instead, you have me play second-fiddle to this… one-eyed mailman."
I smirked down at him.
"Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Samuel?"
"No," he mused softly, the look in his eyes reminded me of my father patiently awaiting the inevitable conclusion to dawn upon my far younger, and admittedly, naïve mind, "concern. This man represents a clear and present danger to us… and our entire operation."
"Need I remind you of Mr. Maddox's highly decorated and colorful past?"
"Need I remind you who he used to work for?"
"You were more than capable of covering your tracks."
He shook his head amusingly:
"I forget you can be so… blunt. Especially when you know I'm right."
"Is that so?" I teased softly, "Tell me then. Do you doubt your own abilities that you would doubt my judgment?"
He looked at me crossly before at last that iron discipline submerged under a veil of blankness:
"The Legion are very distinct. But ruses are like sand… easily shifted. A prying eye can find much."
There's no point. The man's stubbornness provides him loyalty, but can cause unnecessary frustration. So, I shall not indulge him that proverbial high ground:
"You know why we need him."
"There are… other ways. My men are adaptable. Wade especially—"
"No. We don't need an actor, Samuel. We need something legitimate. One who knows their customs, their tongue and their ways by heart."
He shook his head slightly.
"Robert... you're making me… beat around the bush. So I will say what you need to hear. You need not worry about my loyalty… or the loyalties of my men."
"I have made you a very rich man, Mr. Cortez."
"And you will always trust my services so long as it remains that way. But this man, this Gideon? He is not so… simple. He is man who will never be bought, never bribed—"
"He can be convinced, Samuel. Gideon Maddox is and always will be a soldier at heart. He follows causes. Present him with the right one and he'll kill for it."
"But strip a man of that cause and what do you end up with?" he took a step towards the monitor, hand extended in that typically demanding approach, "Robert… you know I respect you. And your… vision. But you still think like a 21st century man."
"Oh?"
"Blood-lust and speeches do not guarantee control, especially not this man? I know this man. I know how he… thinks."
"From one soldier to another?"
"From one conquered soldier to another. After the Oil Rig, I saw the futility of fighting for a flag. For Gideon… it was his losses at the Creek."
"Your point is?"
"We don't fight for flags anymore. We fight… for people."
"And in your case: a great sum of investment."
He smiled his devil-may-care. A moniker I'd seen so many times in my finest employees.
"Perhaps. And as I will continue to do so. But don't ever forget the double edge meaning to it, Robert."
I sighed as my microprocessors peered through the varying videos and snapshots.
"Indeed. He's certainly grown attached to his new found allies…"
The images soon filtered onto the monitor for us both to see. Then the matter of interest came to hand:
"So much that he would stand up to the Red Bear herself."
"I never denied the man had heart."
"But you don't trust him?"
"No. A lesson learned is a man becomes dangerous when he gains family."
"I'll take your concerns into consideration, Mr. Cortez."
"It is your funeral, Robert."
Yes. Yes indeed. But I don't plan to die just yet. There is still more…much more… that needs to be done before at last… I can rest.
Las Vegas depends on it.
Gideon
I woke to the cold morning chill. At first I was confused as to why there was an arm draped across my chest. But then feelings and memories explained the rest in a few seconds. I turned my head and smiled at the beautiful woman lying at my side, half buried beneath me and the covers, still soundly asleep. I brushed a bit of her hair from her eyes, tracing my hand over her ear softly.
There was a feeling in me that I couldn't describe. A feeling that warmed a little within me that grew a little more looking across at her. It was more than just happiness, I concluded. I felt something that I just hadn't over the past month. Something that cultivated despite the utter chaos of the night before; the terrible consequences that should've made me feel cold. For the first time as far back as I remembered: I was at peace.
I wanted to lie there, be there when she woke up, kiss her, tell her she'd been wonderful. But my eye closed and the feeling didn't so much as disappear as it was suppressed. The memories of the Khans, the Legion and Moore all reminded me that I wasn't safe. That she and everybody else weren't safe. That I couldn't ever afford to drop my guard; especially not now.
That's when I felt something else creep into the Witches Calderon of my mind. I felt the cold pang of guilt stab me in the back; just like back in Goodsprings, just like with Sunny. But this time around I didn't understand why. What did I have to feel guilty for? Especially with her?
That's when I saw it. I wasn't looking at Cass anymore. I was staring at another woman. A dead woman. Her beautiful face and beautiful blonde hair growing grayer and darker until they shriveled into a mangled corpse; the cold empty sockets of her eyes staring me down like my grave on that hill outside of Goodsprings.
I blinked once, and the image was gone.
"Who the hell…"
That was all I could ask. All I would ask. The cold air started to bite into my naked body and I shook my head.
"Get a grip, you jackass," I told myself as I fought my panic to a standstill before I shoved them back into the darkness where they belong. I'm done being undone by my past. This—whatever this is—love, lust or whatever—I'm not letting old wounds tear it down. So I got up as quietly as I could, my bare feet making slight creaking noises on the wooden floor. That's when I noticed the door was open.
"Oops."
I turned back to Cass and I gently pulled the rest of the sheet over her. I made my way to the door and closed it. Jesus, this thing could really use some oiling. I moved to the clump of clothes lying on the floor, tossed in whatever direction seemed most convenient at the time. Before I did though, I gave my pants a good shake. Sure enough, something fell out and started crawling away.
"Sneaky bastard."
It was moving fast towards the wall. I grabbed my boot and gave it a good whack. It got up and kept on running, this time towards another room.
"Tenacious. I'll give you that."
I pushed past the door. I realized it was a bathroom, and there in the cracked mirror was me; staring back at myself. I frowned a little at it.
"I'm one ugly looking bastard, ain't I?"
I approached the mirror, my hands resting on the sink as I stared long and hard at my own reflection. I shook my head and turned on the faucet. The cold water was a shock to my system as I applied it to my face.
You old fool.
I spun around and stared through the doorway. There was nobody there.
Think you can run?
Now I stared down at the room, at the rusty old toilet and the decayed bathtub.
Think you can escape me?
"Who's there?"
I'm you, idiot.
I turned back to the mirror. My reflection.
"What?"
There was a man there. Me. He was younger than me by at least a good ten years… and he both eyes. Eyes that looked at me with utter contempt.
The old fool who thinks he can run. Thinks he can live a happy life. Thinks that he can stop looking over his shoulder.
I turned back to Cass in the bed.
You will never have her. And she will never have you.
"You're not real. You don't get to tell me how I get to live my life."
But I do. You've never even lived a happy life before.
I heard a noise. A sickening noise. The sound of soft flesh being squished. And the pain that came with it. A pain in my left eye.
I ran my hand up to the bandaged part of my face. I felt the eye being crushed, felt the hot blood run down my face. I wanted to scream but I couldn't.
You will never escape who you are.
The head felt like it was on fire. I started to rip at the bandages, felt the cold air prick away at the exposed skin.
You will never run far enough away that we cannot catch you.
My hands clutching at the ruins of my eye, I turned back to the mirror. I saw before me the same young man, but his eye was gone. My eye. All that was left was a bloody hollow shell that ran black as much as red. Then the voice changed to one I'd heard a month ago:
Never enough that fate will not have its way with you.
Before me the face altered and shifted. Now I looked at the smirking man who put me in a grave. But when he spoke, it wasn't his words being spoken:
A life of misery and suffering.
The voice sounded like an oiled brass drum being pounded by a wartribe. Benny shifted into the darkness and what came out was haunting. A bare golden mask with hollow eyes looking to consume me. But then the mask evaporated before me. The layers of gold melted away to reveal… the woman.
She smiled sadly at me, her yellow hair waving in the wind.
Do you really think you could ever love again?
Her face started to melt to a black char. It roasted to the bone as it peeled and chafed off in a flowing cloud of ash.
After what you did to me?
The face was gone, replaced by a living skull that laughed out at me. That cackled in my ears.
"Leave me alone!"
I slammed my fist into the mirror, cracking it again.
"Gid?"
I froze.
"You okay?"
I turned, almost lethargically, back to the woman who'd made me feel alive again, wrapped in a bed sheet. But she gasped when she saw me. It wasn't just horror or disgust in her eyes it was…worry.
"Jesus."
I looked into the mirror, and I saw why. The left side of my face along my eye socket… was just gone. Just a weeping, decayed gap of mangled purple and bloodied flesh. A long trail of it went a little towards my ear before ending. The exit wound.
Then I saw just above my destroyed eye was the second entry point. A crater of rend bone and muscle. All in all I looked like a zombie from one of those old horror flicks. Quickly I cover my eye and turned away:
"Sorry you had to see that."
She crossed the distance and pulled me back around, the sheet falling to the floor.
"I've seen a hellovalot worse than that. But it's up there."
"Really?" I asked with a smile, "What's worse than my zombie face?"
She returned the smile.
"Ya really wanna know?"
"Probably regret it, but sure."
"Two Ghouls fuckin' their brains out."
"Yup, that's worse…do I wanna know why you were watching such a spectacle?"
"I was sort of tied up at the time and they got bored."
"Hmm, gnarly."
"Now, let's get that nasty piece of work covered up shall we?"
I nodded and she turned back to the bed. My eye locked onto her swaying features…my God, I'm luckiest man alive. I heard something moving. The spider was staring up at me from the sink. I signed softly.
"You're off the hook, you little shit. Go scurry back to where you came from before I change my mind."
Veronica
I heard knocking at the door and I sat up, bringing the covers over my body.
"Come in."
It was Boone.
"Morning Mr. Shades… it is morning right?"
"It is."
He closed the door behind him and opened the curtains; the light creeping in. I yawned a little as I rubbed at my eyes.
"How you feeling?"
"Like I've been put in a dryer for a couple of hours. How about you?"
"About the same."
He then dropped his bag to floor and started to pull a bunch of stuff out.
"Whatchya got for me?"
"I—well, um—got you some clothes."
My face brightened at this as I squealed a little too dramatically:
"Ooh, is it a dress?"
He looked at me a little funny. A tiny grin passed by his oh so serious-all-the-time face.
"No. They were fresh out. But I'll…keep an eye out."
His awkwardness is so cute. I decided to have some fun with it:
"Well you better bring me the best kind then! Long flannels, bring red, oh I like red. Maybe some sparkles, but not too glittery. Low hanging, but not too much. Give a little tease of cleavage, but not an overdose. A cut line on the back. People like seeing the back. Maybe a V-line along the right leg—wait are you actually taking notes?"
He had a little notebook out and was literally writing away in it with a pen! He looked at me a little confounded and a little confused:
"I thought you wanted a dress?"
I had to smile at him for that. So skilled with firearms and assassinating people from like a mile away; but not so much with women. I love it.
"Boone… thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I-uh, well I didn't know what you're…sizes were."
"Well this should get interesting."
Gideon
We got to the lobby after Cass took the time to bandage my face up. There we found Raul sitting with his feet across the counter, his head down, and ED-E pacing back and forth in front of the main door. He spotted us, and I held a finger up to my lips. I looked at Cass ad she returned a mischievous smile. We slowly started to creep up on the sleeping Ghoul and got to about pushing distance when he then spun around to face us:
"Bang."
He had his Model 29's drawn on us.
"Usted y su pareja están muertos."
"Jesus, the kid was right," Cass laughed. He smirked softly:
"Como? That I have some 'Radioactive Super Powers?' No, I'm just old."
"I'm guessing you heard us?"
"No I smelled you. Ustedes dos tienen un buen rato anoche?"
"Oh."
I decided to change the subject.
"How's everybody else?"
"Well Boone went out and came back about ten minutes back. El Pequeño y mi been watching the front—"
"You sleep at all?" Cass asked, to which he shrugged.
"Un poco. I don't need much. Mi cuerpo works different than yours."
Then I spotted soldiers moving past the front carrying boxes.
"Q-Office," Cass answered, "must be here ta get everythin' I didn't."
"Mmm hmm. Los motores de la casa been here since four. Started with bodies, then more bodies, y ahora guns."
"We get any visitors?"
" Ya mean all those crazy minded broads, pardner? " ED-E sang aloud, " Ain't ought none of that sort! "
"Good," I yawned, "I've had my fill of gunfights for the week."
"So jefe, what's next?"
I shrugged my shoulders, but Cass had my answer:
"Well fer one, I'd like ta eat something that ain't freeze dried, or watered down in ta goop. 'Sides, I think I got an idea 'bout our predicament."
"Well, recordar que sopla al infierno bar from last night? Well, I've been hearing from them about the barman, this gato Ike, been gritando en la parte superior de sus pulmones that they can't close down his bar. I hear he pulled out a double barrel on them."
Cass smirked at this.
"I like him already."
I nodded.
"Sounds like a plan. ED-E, you wanna go get the others?"
"No need," Cass snickered from behind me, "You two went shoppin'?"
"Huh?"
I spun around and I saw why. I couldn't help but laugh a little. Veronica was wearing a white tank top two sizes too large, the material loose and dragged enough that you could see glimpses of her black lined bra, and blue jeans that made her legs look like sausages. She looked up at us from under a tan ballcap and simply shrugged.
"You clearly haven't worn burlap. This isn't so bad. He at least got my boots right… and bra size."
We all gave Boone the 'oh really' look and he lit up like a tomato. I mean this guy was the definition of embarrassed.
"I'll make this up—"
"Don't you worry about me, Sly," she chuckled softly followed by a playful jab to his arm, "I'll teach you the finer points in women clothes shopping when we get the chance."
"Sly?"
I couldn't help but laugh. First at his reaction and at V's see what I did there smile.
"My idea. Called you Sylvester."
"Who's Sylvester?"
"Wait, you're telling me you've never seen Loony Toons!?" Veronica exclaimed. When he shook his head, she face palmed, "Boone, you philistine! We really need to get you caught up on your entertainment history!"
"…What's a philistine?"
Now Cass, Raul and ED-E had joined me in laughing our asses off. Boone just looked utterly confused, which just made it all the more hilarious.
"Don't worry about it, buddy."
"I…feel I should be."
"Well don't. Hey you guys hungry? I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat."
"After you, Bossman."
I took point, followed by ED-E and Cass with Raul, Boone and V taking up the rear. I brushed past the doors, donning my boonie and shades as the morning sun gave vintage to the utter destruction from last night. All around us was nothing but ruin, craters, smoke and a whole lot of soldiers running around. These guys were wearing a different kind of uniform however. Instead of the drab tan overalls, they were wearing olive green jump suits and 8 Point utility covers with the Roman numeral V followed by class sewn on their shoulders.
"5th class," Cass explained, "the Q-Office is split up by ten classes. V's are ordinance disposal."
"Make sense."
My hand trailed close to the Browning. Q-Office guys or not, I'm not exactly in a trust-NCR mood today.
"So how's the suit doing, un extrano?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well you're out here, wearing este desajuste. I'm assuming you broke it?"
"No, but it does have a pretty decent sized hole in the shoulder. Besides, I figured it was time to take it off anyway."
"I see. I could take a look at it. I am pretty good at aparejo jurado."
"Yeah. You're work with the sodabottle silencers proves that much."
"Sodabottle—wait what?"
"A little trick I picked back en el Álamo de San Antonio."
"Wait, you've been to the Alamo?"
"Si. Still being used as a fort by your crazier cousins… well the last time I was there."
"The Texas Expedition? We haven't heard from them in years. What were you doing there?"
"Wandering. I tend to do that. Go from place to place, get shot at and fix things. Though that was not as bobo as my time in Orleans."
"Is there any place you haven't been to?"
"Boone, mis amigo, you know that song by Juan Cash? You know that one where he's been everywhere? Well, you're looking at el auténtica reencarnación de esa obra maestra musical."
"I believe it."
I felt Cass nudge me softly in the shoulder and I turned my ear towards her as she whispered:
"So the mirror… that wasn't 'cause of me was it?"
"What, no. I was—having a sort of nightmare. Nothing to do with you."
She smiled slyly.
"Yer a bad liar, but at least you ain't that bad in the sack."
I chuckled softly:
"The stamina on you, woman," that earned a chuckle from her, "But I'm not lying about the mirror."
"What'd you see?"
My hand traced up to my bandaged eye.
"Dunno. A bunch of faces mocking me. Feels like the ghosts from the Christmas Carol."
"The what?"
"Story about this grumpy old rich guy named Scrooge. Treats people like shit and all that jazz. So on Christmas Eve, he gets visited by a bunch of ghosts. Show him his past, present and future. Freaks him out so bad he turns into a—uh, there's a name for it. But he turns into a nice guy."
"Wow," she smiled sarcastically, "no wonder they nuked the world. People back then were brahminshit nuts! So, ya thinking they could be from yer past or somethin'?"
The memory of the decaying blonde woman kept on prodding at me anytime I'd look at her. I banished it away everytime, but it kept on trying to escape; pounding away like some demented neighbor on the front door. I just shook my head.
"I don't know. I just don't know. And you know what? I don't care."
She looked at me with sympathetic eyes that made me feel worse.
"Look, if it's me yer worried about me—"
"Cass, whatever this stuff is… I'm not letting it come between you and me. Not now and not ever."
She smiled up at me and kissed me softly on the cheek.
"Sounds like a plan…Jerkface."
"Tipsy sipper."
"—A recent attack by the Legion on the military bases surrounding the defensive line by Boulder City were repulsed by the valiant defenders of Camp Gulf and the Boulder City ruins. NCR analysts have estimated enemy casualties to be approaching the low hundreds. In addition, a pack of Great Khans running narcotics up to the troubled streets of Freeside and Outer Vegas were killed in the resulting gunbattle between the Crimsons and our boys in brown. Lieutenant Colonel Cassandra Moore had this to say on the matter:
"Let this be a warning to Papa Khan and anyone else who sides with Slavers and Murderers. You're days in the Mojave are numbered."
"The queen bitch," Cass cursed.
"I see the Colonel's taking advantage of the slaughter," Boone commented rather calmly, "another advance in her military career."
There was bitterness in that last part.
"Not the first time, I'm guessing?"
"Not even close, Gideon. Not even close."
Suddenly there was a boisterous call from inside the saloon.
"So you must be Maddox! Monroe's told me to keep an eye out for you!"
We entered the saloon and there standing at the head of a giant U shaped bar was an older man with a battered face and one seriously impressive mustache came out from the back; holding an extremely large caldron. Oh yeah, that smells like good ol' fashion barbeque.
"You must be Ike."
"Dwight Ukieley at your service. Well for the next fifty minutes that is."
"Why, you closin' shop?"
"That I am. I mean look what those fuckers did to my bar!"
The walls were, well, shot to pieces. Hell not even shot to pieces, more like blown through like that Big Bad Wolf with those stupid pigs.
"Mama once told me to cut my losses when the tide gets ridiculous. Well, add explosive to ridiculous and you've got a business going out!"
The smell soon drew my attention to more pressing: my stomach.
"I'm assuming that's for us?"
"That it is. 'fore Monroe and company left, they dropped off a pile of caps to pay for the grandest meal I could come up with. Considerin' I'm still standing, well… I figured I'd test my new recipe on you fine looking folks. Now if you feel the sudden urge to eat each other's faces from the power of my brew, then I've done my job right."
Cass
"—Tensions build between the NCR settlers and the ruling gang of Freeside known as the Kings. Already several instances of violence have been counted and the situation is expected to escalate. The mysterious leader of the gang, who would only identify himself as the King, had this to say to a News Eye-bot:
"Now let me perfectly clear with y'all. We didn't ask for this rattlesnake dance, but we got it. The NCR ain't nothin' but the Devil in disguise. They ain't no friends of mine and certainly not with Freeside. If you know what's good for you, I'd have a mass return to sender before things get further outta hand and trust me… they will."
I shook my head at the news. Ol' Presley, you always gotta pick yer fights against folk bigger, meaner and nastier than you. After seein' what they did those surrenderin' Khans… well, I don't doubt they'll do the same to you, too. Maybe we can both do each other a favor and I'll talk you outta doin' something royally stupid.
"That boy's gonna get himself killed," Ike replied, shaking his head all the while, "NCR wants Freeside, and if that means the Kings get run over, well by God or Gods or whatever else they'll gladly do it with a steamroller."
"Are things as bad as they say they are?" V asked him. He nodded.
"Mr. New Vegas has the unfortunate habit of sugar coating. See the problem there all stems from the same thing."
"Vegas."
"Yup. Hundreds of folk from out west come here, gamble away their life savings and lose everythin'. So where do they go? Well, some got the stones to crawl back home, but most are stuck here."
"Squatters?" She asked. Again he nodded.
"In the most violent of terms. See, there are already about four hundred, mebbe even five hundred folk in Freeside and Northern Vegas alone. Add another couple hundred strangers with no caps, and no manners of any sort… well, things gonna get ugly real fast."
"Why don't the NCR ship them out?" Gideon asked, "Resources or not, it wouldn't take much to point them in the right direction and give them the boot."
"'Cause they don't want to."
They all looked at me. I pushed my plate aside and got to explainin':
"That boy we were hearin'? Well, that's the King of the Kings. Could say he's the literal king of everything the Families don't fuckin' own, but he won't ever claim it. But he's always had a bone ta pick with the Republic. Whole reason why everything outside of the Strip ain't part of the NCR."
"So what? They want him dead?"
I nodded.
"You can't seriously think—"
"Boone, I've lived in Freeside. Hell, I ran my caravan for months there, dropin' off water and food when we could. Let me tell ya, the Kings and those Follower do-gooders were barely able ta keep things civil. But once all those extra mouths showed up, things got bad. And I mean guns in faces bad. That was just barely a couple months ago."
"And considering what Moore did last night—"
I nodded.
"They want a war. They want him ta go over the edge. Then they'll have an excuse ta go in and kill 'em all. And then you can add one more City-State to the Republic's banner."
"'Let them have cake.'"
"Huh?"
Veronica smiled her ol' embarrassed smile at me:
"Sorry, old history."
Okay… Then Gideon looked me hard with that snake-eye of his:
"You said you had a way out of our predicament. I'm assuming it has something to do with these guys?"
I nodded and I unfolded the plan:
"Look, we can't buy our way into the Strip. It costs about 2,000 caps ta buy a passport… per person. Even if with the haul we got, we can't get near 'nough ta get one fer each of us. But I know the Kings… and their King. He'll help us, but we may have ta do a couple of favors for him."
"What sort of favors?" Boone asked, his tone already tellin' me he didn't like where this was goin'.
"More than likely? We're gonna have ta mess a few people… and potentially defuse a war for him."
Whole room was silent. Gideon looked like an old midnight cat tired of fightin'; somberly wastin' away in a corner. Hell, could say the same fer everybody in the room. Then he took out that long throat-slitter of his and seemed to be starin' at his own reflection for a good long while…
Gideon
Sic Vis Pacem Parabellum. It means 'If you want peace, prepare for war'. These words are what have defined me for my entire life, but now? I shook my head and sighed. I felt utterly tired, but not just the kind of usual tired.
I felt a fatigue right to my bones, settled in my mind. Part of me wanted to just sit here for an eternity, sit here and stew in my own self-pity. But I can't. I can't just sit here and think how things went so wrong because they did. There's nothing I can do to change any of that; I can't change the fact that I was shot or that a lot of innocent folk were killed along the way up here.
I thought back to last night. Back to my little spat with Cass… what she said about what I've done up until this point. That none of it was just over my quest for revenge. That I did what I did because folk were in danger.
I can't let this go. This is beyond me now. Beyond just me getting shot. Because let's face facts, I was saved by Goddamn Angels over the millions of other scrubs left on this blown-to-Hell Earth. Millions of people… and they chose me.
I have to believe there is a reason to that madness. I have to believe I was chosen for a purpose. And yeah you could say that's insane. You're absolutely right. But I know I'm right and right now there's going to be a war in the streets…unless we can stop it.
I've been given a chance to live. Well…I need to earn that right. Benny…I'll get you eventually, but right now I've got some lives to save. I took one last look at my ugly mug before I sheathed it.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Regardless if this is our way in or not, we need to deal with this one way or another. So, I'm in. What's our next move?"
"Whoa wait yer askin' me?"
"This is your show Cass. You're plan. And I'll follow it gladly. But I won't speak for the rest of you," I looked hard into the faces of the people who'd followed me this far on my crazier than Hell crusade and who'd faced the odds at my side and were somehow still sitting here; eating barbeque, "that's something you need to decide yourselves."
"You know my answer," Boone answered almost immediately.
"Count me in," V followed next, "besides, I need to get me some new clothes and don't give me that look, sour-puss."
"ED-E? You don't have to keep following me around if you don't want to."
" Wrong 'bout that one pardner! Gonna keep on ridin' along the mellow plains. By your siiiiddeee! "
"Well that was dramatic."
That left only one person. He chuckled softly and crossed his arms.
"What? I don't have a grand speech for you loco gringos. Pero si. Estoy contigo hasta el final de la linea."
Cass looked at each of us and just shook her head.
"So this must be what you feel like most of the time."
I grinned at that.
"Well, not always."
