Chapter 15: Abrupt Impressions

The caravan guards glared down the banditos as their employer approached the head honcho. "Domingo, que pasa!" Doc Gallagher announced with a cheer as the opposite leader ordered his men to stand down.

"Still carrying the good shit?" Domingo asked with a bushy-rimmed grin.

"Dom, because you've been such a good customer, I'm going to let you in on the know and be completely honest with you," Doc explained at the beginning.

"Coming from you? That's a first," Dom exclaimed, wearily.

"I got jacked before I could resupply," Doc exclaimed, apologetically. "Wasn't thrilled about it, but I wasn't in a position to argue. Still, today I might be a little light on selection, and let's just say that it might cost a bit more than last time."

The local banditos pulled out their guns, to which the caravan guards responded in kind. Both of their leaders immediately began screaming at their men to stand down and stand back at ease. "Now that's some old bullshit," Dom finally hissed. "Paying more for less? I thought this was the land of freedom and opportunity?"

"Those words apply to me as well," Doc shrugged, somewhat sincerely. "If the situation is beyond your comfort, perhaps you could wait around for the next shipment in, let us say, the next time a caravan comes too close to your turf?"

Domingo growled. "Of course, if that isn't to your liking, perhaps returning to Mexico would be preferable?" Doc goaded.

"…What do you have?" Domingo relented. The transactions were quick, three cannisters of Hydra, a bag of Jet, some med-kits, and a few anti-toxins in exchange for a lean eight hundred caps.

"Pleasure to do business with you," Doc Gallagher grinned as he sifted through the caps.

"You are as barely tolerable as ever," Domingo growled. "Least you are easier to deal with than the south."

"I'm flattered," Doc grinned. "To be compared so favorably to the Iglesia."

Domingo scoffed. "You haven't been following the news? Most of the Iglesia down south has sued for peace. The age of the sicario is over. Mexico is now the land of the federale."

"Oh," Doc winced. "That sucks."

"Tell me about it," Domingo rolled his eyes. "At least this land gives us the space for proper raiding."

"Domingo!" one of the bandits called out. "The boys have spotted a trespasser on our turf!"

"Trespasser? One?" Domingo asked, incredulously. "Poor dumb son of a bitch," he chuckled. "Boys! Load up and jump the bastard! First guy to bring him down gets the best of what he's carrying!"

"You sure you want to start something?" Doc Gallagher asked.

"Since when do I listen to orders from you?" Domingo snapped. "You have your money, so if you don't want to join in then leave us to our business!"

As the bandito went to join his boys, Doc fished out a pair of binoculars. He focused on following the banditos as they prepared to intercept the newcomer, and after a few minutes of searching, found the intruder.

"…Bryson," Doc began, eyes not having left the device. "Have the men stand down. When the fight is over, search the bodies and get our stuff back. Do not engage with the fight."

"Someone you know?" his lieutenant asked.

"Unfortunately. Well, least we're on good enough terms with McGrath. When it's over, let me be the one to talk to him, please," he said as shots began ringing out, the strangled yell of one of the banditos calling out as a bullet ripped through his throat. "This is not going to be pretty."

The bottle shattered as Tobey gave a polite clap. Larain holstered his pistols, giving a quick and courteous bow while Carla went to inspect the targets. "Credit where it's due, you know how to shoot," Tobey admitted.

"I can manage to not embarrass myself in a gunfight," Larain bowed his head, trying not to brag. If there was one thing Kenzie McGrath was good at teaching, it was gunfighting in close quarters. Combining tactical flexibility with expert trigger discipline, the McGrath Family was about to outshoot its rivals when all else failed.

The wooden ranch fence had been abandoned for years, its new owners over the years doing the bare minimum of maintenance for the rotten wood. Now it was repurposed as a firing range for the AEG. The Twins, as Larain had learned they were typically called, offered Larain a chance to get some shots in before another unit hogged the opportunity.

Some distance away, Rosa and Jimmy stood by their tent, watching the three chat. "Well, at least they seem to dig him," Jimmy stated, flatly. Rosa just rolled out a cigarette. "Got a light?" she asked as she placed it on her lips.

"Don't smoke, remember?" Jimmy said. Rosa groaned as she placed it back in her pocket. "One of these Cali troops ought to be carrying," she muttered.

"So, what do you want to do about the problem that won't go away?" Jimmy asked as they watched Carla rejoin the two.

"Nothing. He stays away from me, we stay away from him," Rosa exclaimed as she folded her arms.

"Guess he won't be invited to any more potlucks," Jimmy smirked.

"Joe will find a way to do it, though," Rosa sighed.

Back on the range, Carla congratulated Larain as she usually did. "Well, you can hold a gun properly and blast away a stationary target," she applauded.

"Is she always like this?" Larain asked her brother.

"Nah, she seems like she's in a good mood for once," Tobey giggled. Carla kicked dirt at her brother. "Well, at least he can protect himself from bottles. More than I can say for Rosa," she muttered under her breath.

"You don't like her, do you?" Larain asked, not noticing Tobey signaling to abort the conversation.

Carla looked to Larain and squinted her eyes. "And that's your business because…"

"Look," Larain began. "I don't know what the deal between the two of you is, and truth be told, I don't really want to know. I just want to stay out of it, all I'm asking," he explained as he held up his hands.

Carla gave Larain a look similar to that which her mother gave him the first time they met. Tobey began to stretch and wanted to call it a day, eager to take a sentry job in the hopes he could get off a shot at whatever animal mauled that trooper a few nights ago. As he was about to leave, Carla called out to her brother. "Tobey, get Dad."

Tobey took a moment to register the request, balking. "Why?"

"I want to see how good our new friend here really is," she stated, smirking as she crossed her arms.

Tobey let out a laugh. "Right, how many more bottles, two?"

"Just one," Carla grinned.

"What's going on?" Larain asked as Tobey jogged back to their tent.

"Well, it's just that Tobey and I have this thing going on," Carla explained. "You see, our dad is the best shot either of us have ever seen. We're not just saying that because he's family, we're saying that because we have seen him do things with a rifle that we've never been able to repeat. When we left, he gave us his best gun, which we've taken to renaming in his honor," she continued as Tobey emerged from their tent, carrying a heavy-looking scout rifle over his shoulder, an empty bottle being tossed up and down in his hand.

"Hello?" Rosa stated as she watched Tobey rejoin the two by the line.

"Thinking the twins are going to try and settle who gets to shoot that thing once and for all?" Jimmy asked as Rosa realized what they were doing.

"No…" Rosa shook her head in disbelief.

"Here is the problem, though," Carla continued as Tobey checked the sights. "As an aspiring sniper team, we can't decide who gets to spot and who gets to shoot. So, we figure the first person who can do what dad does gets the honor of pulling the trigger," she grinned. "However, if someone else can pull off shooting like our pops, well, I suppose that person would be more suited to handle this thing than either of us. Our only request is that you choose which one of us will spot for you, should you succeed."

Tobey loaded a bullet in the chamber. "One shot, kid," he grinned.

"I'm… older than you," Larain muttered.

"Tobey, give him about… seven hundred yards," Carla offered. Tobey began to trot down range, passing the gun to Larain before he did. "You scuff this thing, you're bunking with Jimmy for the rest of the trip," he added before leaving.

"She's actually going to do it," Rosa said, muttering to herself. "She's trying to get asswipe to be her wingman or whatever."

Jimmy looked to Rosa. She didn't seem particularly upset or annoyed, but she was clearly less than thrilled about what was going on. Carla knew Rosa didn't want Larain around, so in response she gifts Larain with a golden opportunity to become deputized and a permanent member of their little squad, who would be looking over Rosa and his shoulders for the following weeks. Was she really still that upset over the Tobey situation? Or was this just another power move to antagonize Rosa in revenge for their broken old friendship. Petty and spiteful, and somehow, she was a cop.

As Tobey finally reached his spot, Larain took his position resting the rifle on the fencepost. Carla joined him, her binoculars at the ready as she popped her finger in her mouth. "…Winds coming from the northeast," she exclaimed. "Bout twenty miles an hour, maybe twenty-five if you wanted to ballpark it."

Larain was used to expending a few bullets from a distance like that, and usually as part of a team. They had to be ribbing him, they couldn't actually expect him to blast a glass pigeon from that kind of distance. This was some kind of joke.

"Very funny," Larain tried to laugh.

"I know, my dad blew one out at a thousand yards. This is basically a cakewalk," Carla grinned.

"Your pop must have been some kind of badass," Larain murmured as he watched Tobey bounced the pigeon in his hand down the scope, finger off the trigger.

"If it wasn't for the injury, he'd probably be running this whole show. To be honest, he's not as nice as mom. She's where we get the personality. And the looks," she smiled.

"Guess I'd better take your word for it," Larain asked as he adjusted the scope. "So, am I waiting for a signal or something?"

"Just pay attention and be ready to fire once he tosses the bottle. Wait until it's in the air. Shoot early and I'll blow your fucking brains out," she added the last part with particular venom.

"I can handle a gun safely, Carla," Larain shot back.

"Just making sure my brother doesn't catch a bullet," Carla cautioned. "So, how much experience have you had?"

"With shooting?" Larain asked as he watched Tobey try to fake him out. "I've been doing it since I could hold a gun."

"And how much of that experience have you, erm, applied?" she needled.

"…I win more fights than I lose," Larain answered. "You don't get too many losses out here."

Carla glanced over to the two voyeurs staring at her. Jimmy was busy looking over his pistol, checking for nicks and dents and pretending to be innocuous. Rosa was glaring her down. And a half-thought-out idea crossed Carla's mind.

"Want to up the ante a little?" she asked.

"Up it how?" Larain replied.

"How about… you make this shot, and sometime this evening you swing by my tent and show me what you showed Rosa."

"What?!" Larain was caught off guard by that and the sudden palm rubbing against his thigh. Tobey tossed up the bottle and immediately hit the deck. Operating on instinct, Larain only had moments to line up and fire. He squeezed the trigger, the blowback knocking the plank it was resting on off its posts. In an instant, the bottle shattered to powder, raining down on the shocked and bewildered Tobey. Jimmy's jaw dropped as Rosa gritted her teeth.

"HOT DAMN!" Larain cheered. "I didn't think I had it in me!"

Carla just stared at the raining powder. Her jaw had tightened up and her face felt flushed. That little show with the thigh was something she had put on for Rosa's benefit, and the taunt was to throw Larain off his game. How was she supposed to know that she'd end up losing her fake wager?

"Well, now, what were we talking about?" Larain asked as he turned to Carla with a smirk. It began to fade when he saw the look on her face. He believed the old expression was something like "deer in headlights" whatever those were. "…Uh, so, about that…" she began to stammer.

"Well, well, well," Rosa began strolling towards the two. "Guess he's good for something after all. Who'da thought that he was a better shooter than both of you?"

"It was luck," Larain replied. "Honestly, I'm as surprised as anyone I made it."

"Right," Rosa nodded. "Right. So, who's going to be your squadmate?"

"Lay off, Rosa, it was just a dumb competition. It doesn't prove anything," Larain shot back.

"The hell it doesn't," Rosa grinned. "What did she whisper in your ear, I wonder?"

"Just a little encouragement," Larain replied.

"With what?" Rosa's grin began to widen.

As Larain was about to reply, two hands grabbed his face and pulled him towards his spotter. Carla planted her lips on his and held herself there long enough for Rosa to lose interest. "Well, you two seem like you'll be busy," Rosa said, off-handedly. "Not personally what I'd have gone with, but it's not like Larain has anything I want."

As she left to rejoin Jimmy, Carla broke off her kiss with Larain. "…Sorry," she apologized. "When I said that stuff, I was just trying to get under Rosa's skin."

"I could tell," Larain admitted. "So, what was that about?"

"I figured nothing would drive Rosa away like two of her sore-spots having a public display of affection, not to mention that I kind of did make you a promise," Carla said.

"Gotcha," Larain nodded as Tobey rejoined them.

"Who the hell taught you to shoot like that?" Tobey asked as he finished wiping the powdered glass off his coat.

"Well, some of the guys I used to run with could do some crazy stuff with a rifle. I guess some of it kinda just rubbed off on me," Larain offered, remembering the time he saw Cade skewer three NCR mercenaries with a single bullet.

"Well, whoever that was must have been one hell of a teacher. I'd love to meet em someday," Tobey grinned as he punched Larain in the shoulder.

"I… doubt it," Larain paused, remembering the time he saw Cade hack a man to death with a machete over some misunderstanding Cade had taken offense to.

"Well, I better go tell mom we got us someone who can shoot!" Tobey cheered, taking Dad out of Larain's hands and resting it over his shoulders. "How does the title "Deputy Larain" sound?"

Larain wanted to retch. "Sounds great!" he enthusiastically lied. As Tobey went to return the rifle to his tent, Carla took a moment to stop Larain in his tracks. "So, uh, about what I said," she began.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Larain dismissively waved her off. "Just keep me out of this feud between you and Rosa and we'll do just fine."

"I mean, if you want to swing by my tent sometime later," Carla added. "We could just, y'know, talk. If you want, I guess," she kept adding.

Larain looked to who he presumed would be his new partner if Natalie, for some reason, accepted this turn of events, such as it was. Carla was not like Rosa. She seemed a lot more sincere than her, more innocent. The thought of trying to take advantage of her seemed beyond the pale, just a little, unlike Rosa who couldn't seem to keep her nose out of trouble.

"Talking sounds great," Larain smiled. Carla let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks. Y'know, I think Rosa has you all wrong. You seem downright tolerable, honestly."

Larain clutched his heart. "That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. And I wish I was joking about that." The two shared a laugh as they returned to the camp.

"Unbelievable," Rosa muttered to herself as she stormed back to her tent. "The nerve on that bitch, Urgh!"

"Don't tell me you're upset," Jimmy rubbed his eyes.

"I am not upset! I am annoyed! I hate his guts, so naturally, Carla starts laying in what passes for charm! That's just predictable!" she welched.

"Sounds to me like he's her problem now," Jimmy stated.

"She wants him, she can have him. Fine!" Rosa snarled as she threw herself at her cot, folding her arms as she tried not to pout.

"You're upset, aren't you?" Jimmy needled.

"Stop pretending to be Joseph. Only he can pull it off," Rosa heckled.

"Rosa, you're better than this. The sooner you quit obsessing over that one hemorrhoid that won't go away, the better," Jimmy tried to coax.

Rosa turned to look at Jimmy. "Gross."

"Whatever, you know what I mean," Jimmy tried to drop the subject.

Rosa laid her back on the cot. "You know, sometimes when things get like this, I wish that we were more compatible than we are."

"Please don't start again," Jimmy denied, exasperated.

"You are the one guy in my life I trust to never fuck me over. Joseph too, but he doesn't count. I just wish that one of these days we could just hook up and get it over with," Rosa exclaimed.

"We're not doing this again," Jimmy shook his head. Three years ago, Rosa had gotten drunk and kissed Jimmy. Somehow this act induced a severe case of vomiting, practically ruining Rosa's eighteenth birthday almost as badly as her quinceanera.

"Fine," Rosa finally surrendered the point. "Is Jake seeing anyone?"

"I don't think you're his type, nor is he yours," Jimmy replied.

"Whatever," Rosa replied as she kicked her boots off. "If I get really desperate, I could always hook up with that Frost dweeb. Sounds like he knows what he's doing. Where is he, anyway?"

"Last I heard, he was following Capt. Wallace out to forage. Sounds tedious as hell," Jimmy explained.

"What, the mission or the interview?" Rosa asked.

"Exactly," Jimmy nodded, causing both to share a laugh.

"Please, Dios mio, no!" the voice called out as the bullet embedded itself in the bandito's sternum. The black-clad assassin shouldered his carbine, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the carnage around him. Seven banditos' dead. A waste of time and ammo, hardly worth considering.

Cade immediately reached into his belt pulled out another magazine, discharging his spent one. He placed the empty mag by his boot, habits learned from a lifetime of frugality. Not that money was an important part of Cade's life. He had once dropped a bag of his caps in the middle of a roaring campfire to demonstrate this to a particularly obnoxious member of Kenzie's so-called "Family." For a group that prided itself on its independence, they often regarded Cade with suspicion due to his preference for solitude. The machete incident was a whole other issue, that didn't count.

"How goes, Cade!" A surprisingly familiar voice called out to him. Cade bristled and turned to see Doc Gallagher approaching him, smiling too broad to cover for the fact that even he was nervous.

"It's been a while," Doc tried to chuckle.

"What?" Cade asked, bluntly.

"I'm just surprised to see you so far out in the wilderness by yourself. I thought you were running with that, what was it called, McDonnel Clan?" Doc tried to socialize.

"Why?" Cade asked, bluntly.

"You know what, fair point," Doc conceded. "We miss you, man."

"Do you?" Cade asked, bluntly.

"…Not particularly, no," Doc admitted. "You give people the creeps."

"Good," Cade answered as he slung his carbine's strap over his shoulder.

"Still, you can come back whenever you want. There will always be a market for good shooters, and you were probably the best RMX ever had. I mean, so what about that incident about the caravan? It's not like…"

Cade immediately wheeled on Doc, drawing his magnum and pointing it directly at the trader's skull.

"Jesus, Cade, OK! Sore subject, sorry!" Doc immediately conceded.

"…You've seen her?" Cade asked, bluntly.

"No, Cade, I have not seen her. Nobody has seen her, she must be dead by now," Doc tried to explain.

Cade scoffed as he returned his revolver to his holster. Doc breathed a sigh of relief as Cade was about to return to his trek. "Tell me, what does your new boss have you doing? Can you tell me that, at least?" Doc asked.

"Returning some folk back to camp. Waste of time, but those are my orders," Cade stated.

"Going north? You know that's where the AEG is at the moment, right?" Doc stated.

"I heard," Cade replied.

"…Say, you wouldn't happen to be looking for extra work, would you?" Doc asked.

Cade stopped in his tracks, looking back at the old trader. "So long as it does not conflict with my first mission, I suppose I am."

"I heard through the grapevine that Abacus has posted an open bounty. At the heart of the expedition, there is a girl. Rosa Perez, her name is. Abacus would like her neutralized," Doc explained.

"Any specifics as to how?" Cade asked.

"Contractor's preference," Doc explained.

Cade smiled.

Domingo gripped his knife as he pulled his body up, throwing his mortally wounded frame to try and run that bastard through and rend him apart. He made it within a foot of the assassin when the top of his skull exploded, the last thing his eyes processing being the barrel of a magnum revolver. Cade hadn't even looked in his direction.

"Eight. I can spare a minute or two. What are the details?" Cade asked.