After a decent night's sleep and a breakfast scavenged from the general store they had called home for the night, Willow and MacCready set off once more towards their first target. They walk at each other's sides, both remaining vigilant and alert in order to ensure they make it to the plant in the first place. So far, MacCready has proven himself to be impressive with his sniper rifle. He has a penchant for spotting threats from a distance, and seems to deal with them efficiently and with ease. In fact, Willow hasn't had to do much at all, aside from take care of a few ghouls and a single, lonely molerat. For this, she is thankful. She knows what awaits them, and knows they are better off saving as much energy as they can for what is to come.
"I'm just saying," MacCready holds his gun, which is supported by a strap, with one hand while the other is facing palm-up, "Obviously a deathclaw is stronger than a radroach. But a thousand radroaches – come on, I think they could easily overpower a single deathclaw."
It is a nonsensical debate the two have found themselves in: the issue of one thousand radroaches versus a singular deathclaw. But it is amusing, and Willow laughs. "You're wrong, and that's all there is to it," she disputes, "You look at a radroach the wrong way and it rolls onto its' back and dies. Even if there are a thousand of them, the deathclaw is going to easily be able to rip them up as they come at it."
"See, that depends. Are the radroaches all swarming the deathclaw at once, or are they coming in droves?" MacCready postulates, and Willow scoffs.
"Doesn't matter. Either way, the deathclaw wins."
"Hey, if this is the hill you want to die on, then be my guest." MacCready chuckles, and the rest of their walk is occupied by lighthearted, surface-level banter in the same vain.
It is midafternoon when Willow and MacCready finally reach the Corvega Assembly Plant. The duo blend well with the debris down the street from the abandoned factory, and MacCready holds out an arm to stop Willow from walking while they're still a good distance away.
"Hang on." he says, his eyes flicking to a nearby crumbling half-wall. He jogs over to it, then moves his sniper rifle to his back before he climbs up. Once he is over it and has found some decent footing, he takes his binoculars from his waist and peers through them, out toward the factory. Willow strolls casually over and leans against the debris, where she stares out toward the plant for a moment and then up at MacCready.
"See anything?" she asks, and MacCready adjusts his binoculars as he scopes out the scene.
"Couple of raiders patrolling the outside." he says and swivels a bit to look around at the surrounding area. "If you ask me, I think a stealthy approach would be our best bet."
Willow nods. "Agree." She glances to the wall, then climbs up it to join MacCready at the top, grunting the whole way. She settles beside the mercenary and holds out her hand expectantly. MacCready lowers his binoculars and side-eyes the woman, before reluctantly handing them over to her. She takes them carefully and brings them to her eyes, adjusting the lenses so she can see more clearly what he has seen.
"There's an old building across the street from the plant that looks like it could be a good vantage point." she notes. "Then you can get the guys on the outside and we can find a good way to sneak inside."
MacCready takes his binoculars back and spots the building she is speaking of, partially hidden by the crumbling freeway above it. "Yeah, I think that could work. You know..." he lowers them again, "...as long as your stealth is good."
Now, it is Willow's turn to side-eye him. She gives him the smallest hint of a smirk, and then jumps back off the wall, landing gracefully on her feet. "Well," she begins with a shrug, "I guess if I'm not, you'll just have to deal with it."
"Oh, really?" MacCready carefully climbs down the wall, leaping off as Willow has done and following after her. "Or I could just take your caps and leave you to fend for yourself." When Willow turns to give him a warning look, he laughs and quickly adds, "I'm kidding."
Willow is shocked, honestly, how easy it is to banter with MacCready. She feels awkward around most people, but dialogue seems to flow so naturally with this man. She has to remind herself, though, that she doesn't know MacCready and he doesn't know her. He is simply here to do a job, and after it is complete, they will go back to being complete strangers. Still, she figures, there is no harm in enjoying the moment as it is now. And that watch and those binoculars – well, she supposes they can act as sort of momentos of their time spent together...
Their banter, of course, stops the closer they get to the plant. And their footsteps become more light, more careful as they creep into the building across the road. Willow's heart races with anticipation as it always does before a fight – and she knows they are about to get a damn good one. She only hopes that she's right about Randall, and that he really is here, holed up in this massive old factory with other raider scum.
"At least if he's not," Maggie speaks to Willow's internal dialogue, and Willow spooks slightly at the sound which earns her a confused look from MacCready, "we're ridding the world of a few more raiders. Right?"
Willow is hardly thankful for Maggie's commentary. Right now, she needs to focus and so when MacCready's attention is elsewhere, she turns her head to give Maggie a warning look. The child giggles in response, but says nothing more.
The crumbling building the duo have stepped into offers a good view of the raiders patrolling the outside of the factory, just as Willow had suggested it would. They climb a few short sets of stairs, both ignoring that the floors are a patchwork of actual flooring and wooden plywood which has been placed haphazardly along the ground and overtop of holes.
MacCready sneaks to a window and takes his sniper rifle from his back. He peers down the scope and spots his first victim – a raider atop the building. He draws in a deep breath and holds it as he tracks the raider, and then, he squeezes the trigger and watches with satisfaction as his head explodes and he falls lifelessly to the platform he had been walking on.
He exhales, and the corners of his mouth quirk into a triumphant smirk. Willow glances at him and takes his expression to be good news, and so she lets him do his thing while she creeps to the floor below to get a different view. It is from here she spots a machinegun turret, and figures her lazer rifle would probably do pretty well to fry the electronics inside. She is impressed when she spots the raider nearby the turret collapse dead from another well-aimed shot by MacCready.
Quickly, Willow hurries back up to MacCready's location. "Is that all the raiders on the ground?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
MacCready has the scope of his rifle to his eye, and he looks focused, as if he's tracking something. "Hold on..." he murmurs, then pulls the trigger and lowers the gun. "That was all I could see."
"Cool." Willow says. "I'm going to go take care of that turret."
"Sure, I've got your back. Try not to die."
Willow smiles softly at his words, then ducks back down and maneuvers her way through the building. So far, she trusts MacCready – though her optimism remains cautious. She sneaks her way across the road and clings to the wall as she works her way toward the spot where she had seen the turret.
She hears a muffled gunshot and looks up, easily spotting the muzzle of MacCready's gun through the window as he takes down another raider. She doesn't remain focused on him for long, though, as she pokes her head around the corner and comes face-to-chassis with the machinegun turret. Thankfully, it doesn't have time to register or lock onto her before she ducks back behind the wall. She makes sure her rifle is primed and ready, and then straightens before she once again steps out from behind the wall.
This time, she quickly lifts the gun and aims it at the turret, and a bright red beam of concentrated lazer energy hits the turret directly in its' hull. The machine spins around, aiming its' gun at Willow. But the woman lives on the edge; she grits her teeth and fires off a blind shot and prays it connects as she quickly scampers back behind the wall. Plumes of dirt erupt where she was just standing as bullets collide with the ground, and Willow holds her breath, waiting for it to stop before she tries again.
After the gunfire ceases, she waits a few moments and then leans out from behind the wall to once again attempt a quick assault on the turret. This time, she manages to blow a chunk off of its' metallic body, and the barrel of its' machinegun waves around in a desperate bid to lock onto something without its' sensor module. It gives her enough time to finish the job, which she does quickly with one final blow from her gun.
MacCready joins her a few moments later and stops at her side. "That was the easy part." he says, then scoffs, "Well... they are just raiders. So it's probably all gonna be easy."
"Better hope you're right!" Willow replies, then does a quick scan of the area before she pushes onward toward the door.
"Trust me, I know I'm right." MacCready says with confidence, and Willow snickers.
"Guess we're about to find out." she retorts, and leads them inside.
Inside is much of the same. MacCready and Willow make a good team. They are stealthy, quiet assassins who move quickly through the plant and manage to down plenty of raiders in the front offices without much of a hassle. Most of them are dead before they even know the plant has been breached. Damn, Willow thinks, I could have probably just as easily have done this myself... But having MacCready there has proven to be beneficial – he evokes a confidence in her and she feels like he really does have her back. It is because she has paid him to do so, she knows, but the company is admittedly quite welcome after so many years of being on her own and so she leans into it.
And MacCready is equally enjoying being a bit of a showoff with his rifle. Especially because Willow had doubted him when they first met the night before. It feels good to prove her wrong, to prove he was a damn good shot and a worthy gun-for-hire.
It is when they reach the production floor they realize the magnitude of the raiders' presence within the factory. They both stop and hide behind a chainlink cage as they attempt to count all of the raiders before them. Some wander about on floor, some up on platforms... There has to be at least 20 of them, and that is only what they could physically see.
"Fuck..." Willow whispers as she looks around the room through the scope of her gun. MacCready shakes his head.
"It's fine." he says, eyes on a beam atop the cage they hide behind which is partially obscured from view by a large concrete pillar. "If I can get up there, I-"
"Wait. That's him." Willow gasps, freezing as she spots him. Randall Yung. She recognizes him instantly, and her stomach churns at the mere sight of him. He is middle-aged and of average height. His tattooed hands look bloodied – they were always so rough, Willow remembers the calloused skin vividly.
MacCready grabs his binoculars and looks out in the direction Willow is looking. "Which one?" he whispers.
"In the vest. Only has one piece of leather armour on his left leg. Older than most of the others." she describes him, and there's a slight tremble of anticipation in her voice as her adrenaline begins to skyrocket. She lowers her gun, and she begins rising to a standing position before MacCready suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her back down.
"What are you doing?!" he asks of Willow's attempted recklessness.
"I'm gonna go kill him." she says as if it were obvious.
MacCready is staring at her now, and he grips his rifle. "What? You're just going to waltz out there and shoot him? Just like that? What about the turrets – hell, what about all of his 'friends'?!" His exasperation carries through well even in his whispered tone.
Willow frowns and pulls her arm from MacCready's grip. "The sooner I can get'm, the better." she argues. "Then we can take off back the way we came and we don't have to fight all these other assholes."
"There's no way you'll even get to him." MacCready is watching Willow with an almost tired look on his face, as if he is trying to explain a high-brow concept to a child. "Willow, this place is crawling."
He sighs, turns his head, and wiggles his fingers where they rest on his rifle. And then, wordlessly, he lifts the scope back to his eye and locates Randall Yung.
Willow watches him a moment, before her brow creases. "What are you doing?" she asks quickly as MacCready's finger settles on the trigger of his gun.
"I think I can hit him from here—"
"Don't you dare." Willow hisses the words in a way which makes MacCready hesitate a moment. He frowns.
"What's the alternative?" he snaps softly, "Let you go out there and kill yourself? Nuh uh. I'll take care of this, and then we can go back the way we came, like you said."
"MacCready, I swear..." Willow warns, but her words fall on deaf ears and MacCready draws in a breath and holds it. Willow's eyes widen as she sees his finger squeeze the trigger, and then she panics and grabs his arm just as he fires.
"Hey!" MacCready grunts as his shot hits the wall behind Randall, which alerts him and the other raiders in the room who scramble to action. MacCready pulls his arm roughly away from Willow and turns his head to look at her in disbelief. "I had him!"
"It has to be me, MacCready. I have to do it, it has to be me!" Willow argues desperately, and MacCready shakes his head in irritation.
"Why?!"
"It just has to be!" Willow raises her voice, and MacCready is exceedingly frustrated with the answer. Unfortunately for him, however, he has no time to ponder as suddenly bullets begin pummeling the wall and floor around the duo where they were once so well hidden.