The dark, stale environs of the Hidden Valley bunker grew more and more portentous, Angel's boots clanking across the cold metal grating. She passed by Paladin Ramos and a few others she'd come to know since working with the Brotherhood. They greeted her with nods and inflections of kindness, yet she sensed it in the semi-stale air; the subtle breeze of the air filters.

Tension. Divisiveness. It had gotten worse since she left days ago.

Reflexively Angel reached for another cigarette, before realizing she'd blow the entire place up and ruin everything with her habits. So she walked, and walked, through the maze of tight hallways, until she came to the Elder's chamber.

The two guards eyed her severely, their weapons blocking the door.

She waved her hand. "I have business with McNamara," she said with a confidence she didn't feel. They stepped aside, and Angel stepped in.

Veronica Santangelo was standing next to the Elder, the blue light from above fading into the antechamber. They seemed absorbed in heated debate until she looked over. "Angel!" She ran over and threw her arms around her. "Sheesh, for a second I thought you weren't coming back. Can't leave a girl hangin' like that, you know."

"I know," she replied into Veronica's tattered poncho, slipping her the pulse gun. "I found this. It works, and it saved my life already. Show the Elder. If that doesn't work- I have another way."

Her friend squeezed even tighter. "You're the greatest. I don't know if it's going to work, but…" she trailed off. "The Brotherhood is failing. I've always known that. If we don't change course, we're going to fall apart or... fade away."

They'd been best friends ever since their fateful meeting at the I-88 trading outpost. Angel was still grappling with her memories, attempting to make some sense of her life and how she'd gotten here. One thing was painfully clear; she was going to kill the man who shot her in the head and take back the platinum chip- which, to her knowledge, was the only reason she was here to begin with. One early morning, without a cap to her name, Angel stumbled into the outpost and tripped right over Veronica, sleeping on the ground. She'd been out late 'finding food for her family', which Angel had no idea was a colloquialism for being the mojave Brotherhood's only procurement specialist; all she saw was a subversive, adventurous girl who seemed so at-home and out of place at the same time. A younger mirror reflecting back to herself. They've been best friends ever since.

"No one is falling apart. Not so long as you're there to keep it all together. This is going to work, you just have to trust me."

Veronica grinned, but it held a sadness Angel saw in her more and more. She swore to fix it. "You know I trust you. I'm just scared."

"So am I, Ver. I don't always show it, but I'm scared too." Veronica turned to face Elder McNamara when Angel added- "I have something to tell you after this all blows over. I think it's going to help."

"Well I hope it's that you finally got me a dress," she said sagaciously.

Moments later, Veronica presented the pulse gun to the Elder. He held the almost alien, saucer-tipped pistol up to the blue-tinged light wonderingly. "What is this strange piece of technology?" He asked.

Veronica cleared her throat. "It's a working pulse weapon that Angel found in a Vault. Proof that there's more tech out there than we know of. Proof that so long as we're trapped here in lockdown, we will stagnate while other groups flourish. We hardly have any weapons here that match this one's level of design."

McNamara sat in silence, studying it front and back. "I see," his eyes went to Angel. "Greetings again, Angel. Thank you for showing me this… device, but I must ask; what is your motive for doing this? Why do you keep trying to help us?"

"That is simple, Elder. Veronica is a close friend of mine, and through her I have seen the failings of this Brotherhood. You were great once. Your people are courageous, honorable, and strong- but you are licking old wounds, and so long as you do, they will never heal. All I want is to help."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but we do not need nor wish to be shaped by an outsider. We enlisted your aid to help us accomplish certain tasks without raising the lockdown. I thank you for helping us with those, but now, I would ask you to leave us in peace."

He was getting defensive, but Angel understood. Pride, as fallible as it may be, was ingrained in the human condition and always would be even after the world ended a hundred times over. She'd accepted the fallibility of man long ago. This Brotherhood was doomed without her or Veronica railing against their ideals, just as her own Brotherhood would have been if her parents hadn't constantly pushed forward and found Chicago. They'd be ashamed of this chapter's current state more than she already was.

And now, with one last ace up her sleeve, Angel was getting ready to play her final card.

"I'm not as much of an outsider as you think I am," she said unsubmissively. But just as she was about to say it, Veronica pulled her aside-

"It's not working," she said with a seriousness that surprised her.

"Ver, I'm about to-"

"They'll never change. And if they don't, then I have to. Someone has to…"

She was hitting her crossroads with the Brotherhood, just like Angel did all those years ago. It put Angel in a sort of 'big sister' position- she knew Veronica needed guidance, but also that what happened next would change things for everyone involved.

"Do what you think is right. But before you make a decision, I think you should wait and think about it a little more. There's something I'm going to do."

"Uh.."

Angel approached Elder McNamara and held his questioning gaze firmly. "Elder, there is one last thing I would like to discuss with you, alone. All I ask is you hear me out."

McNamara leaned forward in his chair, steepling his long fingers underneath his chin. The overhead lighting glossed over his snow-white hair, sharpening his features.

"Very well," he nodded, almost reluctantly. "Guards, Veronica; wait outside. I have a feeling this will not take long."

Veronica shot Angel a dark, inquisitive look. Angel mouthed 'you'll thank me later' as her friend left.

When everyone was gone, the Elder pressed a button underneath his table and a hidden chamber opened up in the wall behind him, illuminating the cylindrical machinations of an elevator lit up with orange panelling.

"Damn, a working elevator?"

He motioned her in.

"Yes. It leads to my panic room. I've never actually had to use it, but with the current state of affairs sometimes I wonder if I should be counting down the days. It will be more than suitable for you to say what you wish."

They took the lift down in silence. Angel sighed, crossed her fingers with one hand and habitually reached for her cigarettes again with the other. If the Brotherhood joined her, the only group left to recruit was the Boomers, and her plans would spring into action. She felt the outline of the platinum chip tucked secretly away in a pouch. A coup d'état that could fit in a pocket.

She could only hope this would work. If it didn't; well, the mojave was in trouble.