For Alissa

It only felt like yesterday that The Courier was left for dead. Now, dressed up as a cowboy in a continental suit, he was at The Tops Casino, face to face with the culprit; Benny. The Courier should've won the poker game against him, but a hidden ace in Benny's sleeve prevented him from getting his hands on the package that he was supposed to deliver to his recipient. Benny invited him to the Presidential Suite of the casino for some wine from the Ultra-Luxe Hotel. The Courier could smell something fishy, as Benny only seemed half-surprised by his sudden arrival. Suspecting a trap, he decided he'd play along for the minute.

The last person he'd expect to see in the suite was another; a woman dressed in a casual Merc Adventurer Outfit, a piece of apparel which consisted of a striped flannel shirt and sleeveless leather jacket with jeans. "I take it this isn't a part of the accommodations?" He asked.

Cassandra Ronen, also known as "The Black Viper", stood there in the flesh. While only in her 20s, she was deadly as ever, and on a career path to join the Rangers. Not to mention she was a deadly shot though and one of the 1st Recon's top assassins; racking 2nd in most consecutive kills.

She recently had been contracted by the New California Republic to obtain the Platinum Chip for them to bargain with; such as better conditions on the Strip and more funding. The fight with Caesar's Legion wasn't cheap after all...

She pulled out her signature black .44 and aimed it at the man well dressed before her. She narrowed her eyes and spoke softly. "Hold it right there. You reach for that gun I'll paint the walls with your brains. Hand over the Platinum Chip and we can both walk out of here."

The Courier didn't see this coming. He was usually the fastest gun in the West as far as he was concerned. For years he had traveled all the way from Navarro to The Divide and saw his fair share of conflict. But he felt this wasn't the time for fighting. Where bullets wouldn't do, his silver tongue could ease the situation.

"Now I don't know who told you what chica, but I'm the one who's been looking for the Platinum Chip. Who sent you?"

"Don't lie to me. I'll pull this trigger right now and loot it off your damn corpse. Then I'll find out whoever is close to you and kill them too, just to make a point."

She threatens and motions him to slowly set his gun down.

"We both know who sent me; the man who was robbed of his property. This is bigger than both of us, and you're a pawn in whoever hired you. But you can fix this and hand it over."

"The man robbed of his property? Lady, the only robbed man I know is SeƱor Robert House. He tasked me with delivering the Platinum Chip before Benny shot me." He said as he slowly walked to the pool table and started emptying his pockets. Of all the people who'd be in cahoots with Benny, The Courier didn't expect a representative of the NCR.

The New California Republic was the primary ruling body of the former American Southwest. It housed old world values of democracy and personal liberty, and brought stability to much of the wasteland. However, many citizens were discontent with President Kimball's political campaign, as recent efforts to annex New Vegas and claim Hoover Dam have been costly. Its colonization efforts also sparked controversy with outsiders.

"If you're doing his dirty work, you're just as much of a pawn as I am. What did that snake tell you?"

"House is the snake to the people. He allows crime to run rampant here and he sells out to both sides. Hell, the Legion would already be on The Strip if they weren't busy trying to enslave everyone." She would keep her gun pointed at him, but not aimed.

"Benny paid me good money to get that chip from you. But between you and me, Ambassador Crocker wants it, so I'm going to deliver. If Benny had it, he'd have no reason to beg the NCR for help."

"Que dijo?" He asked. He wondered why Benny would go through the trouble of hiring her to take the job while ditching his other accomplices. "I don't have the Platinum Chip. I just lost a game of Caravan to that swindling cheapskate trying to get it from him. If I had it, why would he send you to the same room as I?"

"Your rigor mortis on the headline baby. Hasn't anyone ever told you that it's rude to be poking your nose into other people's business?" A voice from the intercom said. It was Benny. Apparently he hadn't planned on Cassandra and The Courier to meet this soon, let alone at The Tops. Knowing that Benny had double crossed both of his former accomplices, it came as no surprise to the Courier if he were to do the same against him and Cass. "You disappoint me sugarcube, I expected someone like the Black Viper to put the man out of his misery already." Benny said.

"Benny, for the last time, I'm not sleeping with you. So cut the shit. Your triggermen already made a pass at me."

She headed to the door as she heard the elevator doors open.

"You really want to mess with me? Come and try it. I'll kill you no problem."

She glanced at The Courier and then back to the door. She always had her hunting rifle for a backup.

"You know I don't like having loose ends sugarcube. It makes me bluer than my suede shoes." Benny insulted as The Courier too heard footsteps outside the elevator doors. "I heard it coming a mile away that a motherfucking mailman cheated death on the radio. I really didn't want things to turn out this way, but now I gotta kill two birds with one stone."

"Eres un hombre muerto." The Courier said in Spanish, telling him he was a dead man.

"Baby, I don't speak Hispandex. I'm taking a permanent vacation to Nowheresville. That attitude of yours? Kinda why we're having this conversation. Do me a favor and stay dead okay?" Before the intercom shorted out. The Courier had to think quick or else they'd be toast. He could make some of the vodka at the kitchen into a makeshift molotov.

"Nobody double crosses the NCR. Nobody."

She warned. Suddenly bullets began to rip through the doors. She flipped over a table and took cover behind it, waiting for triggermen to start pouring through.

"Get your ass over here! Those white tuxedo losers are here!"

As soon as the Triggermen pounded through the doors, The Courier hid behind a corner and waited for the opportune moment. As soon as he lit the molotov, he threw it at one of them. "Hope you like atomic cocktails!" He said as one of them caught fire. That was enough for The Courier to draw and fire, taking one of them out.

She would then move from cover and quickly kill 3 of them with rapid headshots. Before sliding back into cover. Of course there was more that came through the door. Some with melee weapons. They would charge the NCR woman since she was closest. And also because she had no CQC weapons. Hopefully the courier saw this and decided to help, even if she'd threatened him just moments ago. She was dangerous...but everyone had a weakness. Hopefully hers wasn't melee combat.

Fortunately, The Courier was skilled at close quarters combat, as he often took part in bar brawls. He drew his spiked knuckles, Love and Hate, of which he won fair and square. In an instant he socked one of them right in the eye before punching another in the gut. He dodged a cleaver before giving the attacker a roundhouse.

She watched briefly as the courier dispatched the goons. She worked her own magic in shooting several in the head and reloading before their bodies even hit the floor. A hail of bullets whizzed past her and cut her cheek from the sharp material being taken off her cover.

"Dammit...that bastard is gonna pay..."

She mumbled. Seemed one of the bosses was there wielding a .45 Thompson and unloading at anything that moved.

The Courier took over as well to avoid the hail of bullets that was hurdling at them. He had to time it perfectly. He waited until the stopped shooting to reload and then threw the leftover cleaver at him, taking him out in one shot. He wiped some blood off of his jacket.

"We need to get out of here. Someone downstairs is bound to have heard us." He said as he was running low on bullets. He searched for another way out of the Presidential suite. "If I were Benny, where else would I slither off too?" He asked before he found a secret door hidden behind a bookcase which led to a series of tunnels leading through and under The Tops. He switched on his flashlight, on his wrist-mounted mini computer known as a Pip-Boy. "Vamonos."

"Right..."

She would stand up and dust herself off. Blood slowly trickled down her cheek as she followed. More footsteps could be heard behind them.

"This is a damn mess...all of it..." She said mostly to herself and kept her revolver drawn.

"I gotta get back to the NCR outpost here on the Strip. Any idea how to get there from here?"

"Not a damn clue." He said as they made their way through the maintenance tunnels of The Tops, which led to a secret room guarded by a Securitron named Yes Man, which Benny apparently stole and hacked. Yes Man had a tendency to be brutally honest with every detail regarding Benny and his little coup against Mr. House. Were it not for his knave sense of loyalty The Courier would've considered him a useful ally for the time being.

No sooner did they find themselves back on the streets of The Strip via a manhole.

"After that little fight, I bet the NCR is gonna be looking for us. Why not come spend the night at the High-Roller Suite at the Lucky 38 until things settle down?" He asked her. He wanted to make sure they were safe, and introduce her to his allies thus far.

"Mr. House and I aren't on good terms, especially since I'm NCR." She replied, following him out. "Oddly enough, I was tasked as a Courier for the Mojave Express to carry an inconspicuous object across the wastes; a teddy bear named Sergeant Teddy." She scoffs. "Besides, the NCR needs to be looking for me, but Benny's goons will be too. So I probably should sleep in the Barracks..."

With Benny's connections, she could easily die at the Lucky 38.

"I'm a Courier myself, Number Six as a matter of fact. Anyways, if you want to sleep in the barracks tonight that's fine. But I bet my bottom dollar Veronica's cooking up some Brahmin Burgers. Craig Boone is already making friends, but I suppose it's your choice compadre." The Courier said in attempts to be persuasive.

While he and Mr. House had their disagreements, he respected the man. One of the reasons why crime was so rampant throughout the streets was because Mr. House had no full control due to a missing piece of the puzzle; The Platinum Chip.

The operation concerning the Platinum Chip was puzzling. Six couriers in total were tasked by The Mojave Express to deliver a random object across the desert wasteland. Five of them were merely decoys, while the sixth, was tasked with delivering the Chip to Mr. House all the way from Sunnyvale, California. Unfortunately, The Courier was intercepted by Benny; House's former protege, who shot him in the head at Goodsprings Cemetery and left him with a case of selective amnesia. Had it not been for the efforts of the town's own Doc Brown, and Spaghetti Western Securitron; Victor, The Courier would have kicked the bucket a long time ago.

"Brahmin burgers? Been awhile since I had something other than MREs. And Boone is there? Yeah, I remember that guy back when we served together. I used to be his spotter before that piece of shit Manny took my place. I went to Ranger school for a week before the Legion advanced and they sent me back."

She brushed some of her curly hair from her face.

"You make it hard to say no, but I have to report to my COs. I'll come as soon as the sunrise hits. We'll track Benny from there."

"Sounds like a plan then. I'll meet you outside the gate of The Strip. Buenas Noches." He said before he headed inside the Lucky 38. He reported his missed opportunity to Mr. House, who wasn't pleased, but being a businessman, still maintained a sense of chivalry between them both.

Robert Edwin House; the self-appointed autocrat of the Strip, was an enigmatic entrepreneur with an ego, rumored to have eyes and ears everywhere thanks to his securitrons. He was the sole founder of RobCo Industries, and single handedly shielded Vegas from the nukes of the Atomic War. Over two centuries had passed since, and no one knew the secret science behind Mr. House's longevity, no one but Benny and The Courier. Mr. House had plans for New Vegas, using the funds from the neighboring casinos to forge his own idealist vision of the future.