Chapter Text
Passing through the entrance into Camp McCarran, I briskly crossed the flat expanse of gray concrete that extended a few hundred meters until it reached the thick, towering walls topped with swirls of barbed wire.
Watchtowers for guard-posts and sniper nests dotted the walls, and a few white tarpaulin tents had been set up, serving as barracks. They were separated from the main gate I had entered through by a line of trucks.
Some kind of truck repair depot, I figured.
Hanging around the tents were a handful of NCR First Recon soldiers, all donned with their red berets and engaged in chatter with one another, some tending to their rifles and one with glasses and shaky hands repetitively counting out bullets in his palm.
An older looking fella, with bandages around his hands and a limp, stood beside him, while a woman with a shaved head and a sour, dead-behind-the-eyes look on her face stood alongside them, yet looked idle. Alone, even in the midst of other people.
I turned my head to look at her as I walked on past the tents. For whatever reason, she did the same, meeting my gaze in a moment that felt like a minute.
There were bruises all over her neck, poking out from just over her khaki-colored collar. All yellow and brown, partially faded yet indisputably there. Not hickeys. These bruises wrapped around the entirety of her neck, it appeared. There were gaps, though. Finger-marks, like someone had their hands around her throat.
She soon looked away when she'd noticed I'd seen. I think she must have felt that I knew someone had hurt her badly. Hurt her in a way that nobody deserved to be hurt.
'Betsy,'it read on her collar-tag.
I tore my eyes away from her, side-stepping around the right-side of one of the large trucks on the parking lot.
A bunch of NCR Troopers were busy eagerly rifling through the crates, stacked up against the side of the large terminal building, while others -- more important looking ones with clipboards and serious faces -- took note of each individual firearm that had been brought over. Taking inventory.
From between the Troopers, having observed each of them counting out the bounty of firearms, Boone emerged, pacing over towards me until we were side by side with sights set upon the terminal building ahead of us.
"Troopers counted over four-hundred firearms from those supplies you had sent over. A few under one-hundred grenades, mines..." Boone motioned off to the right-hand side where the stacks of crates drifted on behind us with each step. "It'sinsane,Nevada -- I've never seen that many guns before in mylife.Colonel Hsu seems pleased, he's waiting to talk to you and-"
Boone hesitated, stepping in front of me. I stopped in place, seeing him eyeing the empty spot around the collar of my white-button down, then looking back up my face with a puzzled expression.
"Where's your bandanna?" He asked.
I should have expected that level of observation and perception from an ex First-Recon soldier.
"I... busted Benny's nose." I huffed regrettably, instinctively rubbing at my neck where my bandanna would have otherwise rested. "Let him borrow it for all the blood."
"You busted Benny's nose?"
Boone's eyebrows jumped above his shades, eyes wide and fixed on me. He didn't look shocked, not in the slightest, though his expression might have seemed that way. No, it seemed more that he looked impressed.
"Yeah..."I answered, hesitantly.
"High-five me thisinstant."Boone insisted, raising his hand.
I did as I was told, not wanting to back down from any opportunity that presented itself where I could high-five Boone for something, and Boone chuckled low, pacing on ahead to open the doors into the terminal building.
"Good job."
I didn't feel like I'd done a good job.
In fact, I felt like the biggest bitch in the entire world, and that feeling weighed even heavier on my chest when I glanced down at my hands to see the smear of red blood that had dried across my fingers, seeped through the red bandanna of mine that I'd pressed to Benny's nose.
Ever since I woke up from that shot to the head, I always thought I might'a felt some sense of pride and satisfaction in making him bleed. Yet, there I was: void of satisfaction and, if anything, left feeling like someone had filled my chest with bricks and let me sink right to the bottom of Lake Mead with no hope of resurfacing.
I wiped off the blood on the black fabric of my duster coat with a weighted sigh, even spitting into my palm and scrubbing off the stuff that had dried and seeped into the spider-web fine lines of my skin, which earned a look from Boone making no secret of what he thought of my unmatched grace and decorum.
There was another fella outside by the doors into the terminal building, some fella with a thick brown beard and heavy, serious brows, smoking a cigarette.'Dhatri,'it read on the collar tag of his uniform.
He watched us pass, eyes lingering on me like he was sizing me up. Not in a creepy way, mind you. More like he was trying to figure out what I was doing there, suss out my potential. Troopers nowadays were always trying to get other Wastelanders to enlist.
We headed on inside the terminal building, opening out into a large lobby lined with slots in the center on either side of a semi-circle sandbag wall, bordered by unmoving escalators on the left and right that headed up to another floor and dotted about with a series of doors across the ground floor lobby.
Figured that folks from before the war probably killed their time at the airport splashing their caps away at the slots, like they couldn't quite wait before they entered Vegas itself, or like they needed one last hit before they flew off into the sky and went away to wherever their hearts desired.
Across the opposite side of the lobby were a pair of garage doors and, in front of those, a setup of desks topped with terminals, a few crates here and there. Bridging the gap between the desks and the crates were two white-orange wooden blockades. For some reason, the whole place smelled like a mixture of wet cardboard, dust and some kind of motor oil. I scrunched my nose at it.
Suspended in the air from the roof was an old jet plane, marked with a white star in a blue circle on its tail. Behind it, on the second floor of the building behind the railings that overlooked the first-floor lobby, was a long hallway beneath a white sign displaying the words"Concourse."
At a glance, I read the sign as'Intercourse'and had to do a double-take, ridding me of suspicion that there was some huge sex party going on in an NCR base.
I wouldn't write it off, of course, but it was reassuring to know, at least that the NCR weren't squandering their time in some orgy room.
"Yeah, well, believe it or not, it was anaccident..."I mumbled, glancing about the place at the few Troopers marching about across the top balcony floor. "Anyway, we don't gotta talk 'bout him right now."
I'd only been out of Vegas for perhaps twenty minutes --tops.I'd rushed like hell out of those gates, only slowing up to check in on Georgia, then hurried right along out of Freeside and towards Camp McCarran.
I thought I could hopefully make my track record for not talking about Benny Gecko be a hell of a lot longer than twenty minutes.
"You're comin' with me to talk to Hsu?" I asked Boone, decidedly breezing through the previous subject while my eyes darted about the ground floor of the terminal lobby, across each and every door with no sign as to which I was supposed to be heading through.
"Always."
Boone nodded, taking me by the shoulders and steering me off towards the left, heading beneath the escalator stairs towards an office door beneath the balcony floor level.
"He's in there." He said, pointing towards the door. "After you."
Boone pushed open the door to the office, holding it with his arm and motioning with his other for me to walk on ahead across the tiled floor, which I did and, inside, found myself in the middle of an office directly opposite a large, framed picture of President Aaron Kimball.
That square jaw and flat-top shaved head of his wasn't fooling anybody, and neither was that painfully staunch expression perpetually painted on that canvas.
Thankfully, walking out from the side of the office from behind a desk piled high with documents, Colonel Hsu blocked off that god-awful portrait with his tall figure.
"Nevada Morgan,as Iliveandbreathe..."Remarked Colonel Hsu in a breath that seemed half in awe and half bordering on petrified with a thinly-veiled facade to keep his composure. "Pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, I've heardcountlessstories about you and the work you've done."
He was almost as tall as Boone, fairly stocky, too. An Asian guy with military short-cropped dark hair beneath his greenish-colored beret stamped with some gold logo and a star, dressed in the usual green-yellow khaki getup, an armored breastplate.
He looked serious, yet not in the way that other NCR officials looked serious.
There was something inexplicable about him, in the way he looked at me and Boone, like he understood without saying a thing. He was the sort of guy you could just tell, despite his position, was down to earth and actually felt for what he was fighting for. That it was something he wholeheartedly believed in.
He extended out his hand, eyeing me carefully to gauge my reaction. Unsure of whether I'd bite his damn hand off, shoot him, or actually extend the courtesy and shake his hand.
I watched his hand, stared at it for a moment, and while I wasn't a huge fan of the idea of professionalism and the strange physical acts that came with it, I figured my momma would'a told me to suck it up and build bridges with folks I needed on my side.
"You canuse him,darlin'."My momma would'a said, just like she'd said so many times before."'Ya gotta do whatever it takes to keep yourself 'n your business movin' forward. Stagnant business ain't business at all, it's wastin' time. Use what'cha gotta to keep movin'."
As much as my momma was never much of a'people-person,'there was no doubt in my mind that she would'a advised me that extending the courtesy right back was the right way to go.
I shook his hand, just for as long as I needed to, then quickly retracted it.
Colonel Hsu did the same thing with Boone, which seemed easier for Boone, despite his initial standoffish tendencies when I'd first met him.
I guessed it must have been easier since he'd reacquainted himself with the folks at Camp McCarran over the past few days.
"And aglowingrecommendation from Lieutenant Hayes in Primm, might I add, not to mention this shipment of guns sent over from Gomorrah..." Colonel Hsu managed a warm smile, actually seeming quite proud of my accomplishments. "I have half a mind to get you to enlist right here and now."
"Soldier work ain't really mything..."I chuckled low and without humor, rubbing at the spot around my neck void of my bandanna. "But, uh,thanks,anyhow."
"Hayes couldn't even make sure that lighter was workin' 'fore he gave it to me, but I'll give him some credit for actually followin' through on his word to talk me up a bit 'round NCR outposts."I thought to myself, strolling a step further into the room while Boone closed the office door behind us, posting up at the side of it."Guess that broken lighter led me right to Boone, though, so I can't complain none."
Colonel Hsu stepped back, regarding me like he was sizing me up, trying to imagine my capabilities if he put me into uniform and told me where to point my gun -- something I was not ever, in a million years, going to do.
If I had to parade around in that god-awful khaki getup of theirs, I'd put a bullet in my head.
"You sure about that?" Hsu asked, raising an eyebrow in visible suspicion. "Way I hear it, you're formidable -- a crack-shot at taking down Legionaries,ungodlyterrifying, andthat'sputting itlightly.You'd fit right in."
"I don't kill under a flag, Colonel."
"But what about the company you keep?"
Colonel Hsu co*cked his head, motioning lightly towards Boone as he slipped behind his desk and took a seat.
"Doeshenot tie you to the flag?"
"My company ain'tme."I put it firmly, glancing over to Boone with his arms folded beside the door "I kill when folks are needin' killin'."
I shrugged, strolling over to a side table in front of the portrait of Kimball and parked myself on the edge of it.
"Boone can speak for himself, I won't speakforhim."
"He speaks highly ofyou."Hsu commented.
I glanced over towards Boone to receive a soft, fleeting smile from the sniper -- one I returned in kind -- before I returned my attention to Hsu, who interlocked his fingers and sat forward at his desk.
"But let's cut to the chase, Nevada Morgan." He said. "What is itexactlythat warrants such a generous deployment of firearms?"
"Omertas ain't usin' 'em no more." I told him, plainly. "Had a whole plan to wipe out The Strip on the word of Caesar, weaken NCR presence both on The Strip and here, too, I reckon."
Recalling the incriminating documents on'Racket'that detailed the would-be plans of the late Omerta bosses, I shuffled off the edge of the table, planting my feet firmly on the ground and stuffed my hands into my pocket until I'd grasped the document.
"I got documents from Omerta bosses detailin' the plan. I'm sure you'll find the information useful." I informed the Colonel, who perked up with intrigue as I strolled over to the desk, planting the document down in front of him. "And fore 'ya say anythin', the Omertas are all either wiped off the Strip ordead.No more big players to worry 'bout there."
Anything I could add to sweeten the pot was the best way to go. Evidence of what I'd just told him gave him all the more reason to build up trust in me. Trust that could be used to increase the chances him accepting the deal I had to offer.
"This is..." Colonel Hsu hummed, eyes scrunching in an analytical gaze as he began to flick through the papers. "This isverygood to know."
I watched his eyes dart back and forth, reading faster over words on pages faster than I'd ever seen it done before, and I wondered if it was a part of their training in the NCR: taking in information at lightning-speed. I figured it had to be, at least for colonels and such. Didn't have all the time in the world to spend on lazily perusing pages like their favorite dirty romance novels, savoring all the lewd details of a fictional love affair.
No, those f*ckers had to read, and readquickly,because there was a f*ckingwargoing on.
"There's stuff in there 'bout some dirty NCR soldiers, too." I tapped at the document, as if there was a chance Colonel Hsu might have skipped over it in his quick-fire reading session. "Might wanna do somethin' 'bout 'em quick 'fore they continue provin' to be an issue."
Colonel Hsu's expression darkened at the news, darting his attention right back to the document where he scoured the pages for confirmation of what I'd said, becoming even more bleak and disturbed when he'd found what I'd pointed out. Color drained from his face just seconds later, and I didn't need to read over the top of the document to know he'd crossed over Clanden's section to get to Troike's.
Then, almost as soon as his face had turned whiter than a sheet of paper, his brows furrowed intensely, eyes narrowing as he huffed out a frustrated sigh.
"I..."
Colonel Hsu cleared his throat.
"I'll have this dealt with immediately." He said, placing the document within a secure drawer of his desk, which he locked with a small key from his pocket, and peered over his stack of documents topping his desk to look at me with a raise of his brows. "How did yougetthese documents in the first place?"
"I'm tryin' to get inside Fortification Hill, so I've been scoutin' out inside casinos on The Strip for House.That'show." I informed the colonel as simply as possible, strolling backwards to park myself back on the edge of that table by the portrait. "Long as I took care of business there,andarrange a deal with the NCR, House is gonna find a way to get me a Mark of Caesar, get me across the Colorado and on the inside as safely as possible."
"'Safe'is not a word I would associate with walking onto Legion soil, but..."
Colonel Hsu glanced over at Boone, like some sort of confirmation from another member, current or former, of the NCR. He looked back at me.
"What could the NCRpossiblyoffer Mr House?"
"Security.It benefits the NCRandHouse." I replied, to which Boone gave an affirming nod from across the room, couples with an unenthusiastic yet undeniably supportive thumbs-up.
He was very talkative like that.
"It's only logical to think either side'll take out the other once the threat of the Legion's outta the way, so I'm offerin' a deal to make surethatdon't happen." I continued, resisting the urge to swing my feet from over the side of the table in a way that might kill the importance of what I had to say. "Your soldiers make itnosecret that there's plans to annex The Strip, House'd have to prepare counter-measures. And his new 'bots are no joke -- I'm sure you've seen."
I could be straight with Hsu, I knew that. Nothing was going to be gained unless I wasn't and, hell, it was obvious enough that the NCR had plans to annex the Strip, claim it as another part of their territory that they'd be spread even thinner across, that NCR Troopers spoke openly in the street about it.
"That's true." Hsu hummed, rubbing at his chin with his thumb and index finger. "I don't recall seeing those Securitrons looking someanbefore."
He looked across at the both of us for confirmation.
"I'm assuming they've been upgraded somehow."
"They have."I confirmed. "Evenwithall those new guns, I don't reckon you'd wanna tangle with a mass of 'em. If they don't shoot 'ya first, they'llclobber'ya. Hell, they're big enough that they'll take down Troopers like bowlin' pins if they justrollfast enough at 'em."
Again, from his post beside the door, Boone nodded his head, which Hsu noted with a quick glance.
"I've never been keen on the idea of opposing Mr House, I must say..." Hsu commented, pushing himself upright from behind his desk and strolling around to the front of it. "I was always of the mind that it'd bring nothing but trouble, getting caught up in a power-struggle with one of the most influential figures east of California."
He leaned back against the front of his desk, facing me. The features of his face were contorted and stern, yet intrigued, as he folded his arms expectantly and patiently over his breastplate emblazoned with the NCR logo of the two-headed bear.
"What are thetermsof this deal?"
Nothing left now but to lay it all out on the table.
"In return for the NCRnotannexin' the New Vegas Strip in the event of an NCR win at Hoover Dam when the Legion attack, your troopers will be able to go about business 'n recreation on The Strip just like before." I stated.
When I said it out loud like that, even knowing I'd secured a sh*t-load of firearms to help sweeten the pot, I felt like the scales seemed too far tipped in House's favor from what I imagined the NCR's perspective was.'Business as usual'didn't seem like that much of an achievement on their end in the circ*mstance that they kicked the Legion out of the Mojave.
I watched Hsu's face registering what I'd said, the formation of his next words ticking through his brain beneath that greenish colored beret of his, and decided to cut in before he could make a concrete decision.
"House has got a lotta stake in keepin' the Dam operational -- it's the biggest provider of electricity in this goddamn desert, so he might be inclined to offer support when the time comes." I hurriedly added. "Cut down on the human casualties with some robot firepower.Upgradedrobot firepower, on top of all these guns he's lettin' 'ya take from one of his casinos. More Troopers get sent home to their families when all's said 'n done. See whatthatdoes for morale 'n support of the NCR."
"That's it,"I thought to myself, leaning back on the edge of the table with my back to that infernally ugly portrait of Kimball."That'sgotta sell it. Everyone knows what folks think of the NCR. Gettin' more help on their side to preserve their cannon-fodder's gotta be just the ticket to scorin' this 'n stickin' it to all those skirt-wearin' f*ckers on the other side of the Colorado."
Across the room, posted up by the door we had entered from, even Boone looked quite impressed, though he made no verbal admission of it. Kept himself cool and composed behind his shades like he always did.
"Mr House hasn't been interested in talking to hash out these details, but Idolike what I'm hearing." Colonel Hsu said, then paused in pensive silence, regarding me from his seat on the front of his desk with a raise of his brows. "I've been hearing thatyou'rethe first person invited inside the Lucky 38 in over twocenturies.Is thattrue?"
There was no good way to say that House wasn't interested in a face-to-face conversation because he'd conducted all his meetings with me through a giant f*cking monitor in the penthouse of a ghost-town casino. So I didn't say it at all -- it'd just be a huge hassle to tell Hsu, anyhow, more explaining that didn't need to be explained.
Wherever it was that the guy himself was hiding out, very likely behind that keycard-terminal wall, he wasn't the sort to sit down with military officials to discuss deals of alliance and warfare.
That was whereIcame in.
"That's true." I nodded.
I had a good feeling I already knew where he was going with his question.
"But if you're wantin' someone to talk to 'bout hashin' out detailsin thefuture,you're gonna wanna talk toBenny Gecko."
Even at his name leaving my mouth, I felt that heaviness begin to rest yet again in my lungs.
"He's the head of the Chairmen at The Tops, wears a checkered suit all the live-long day and he's-"
"Gorgeous,"I wanted to say."He'sgorgeous."
"-He's House's protege." I breezed past that intrusive, distracting little thought of mine before it had the chance to completely derail my train of thought. "Once I've finished up my business inside Fortification Hill, I doubt I'll be in Vegas much longer, sohe'llbe handlin' whatever business needs handlin'."
I'd have to fill Benny in on the details of what was agreed and discussed with Hsu, make sure the guy took down details and remembered them well enough that he'd be able to handle it once I hit the breeze.
But filling Benny in on all that Colonel Hsu and I were talking about meant facing Benny again.
After I'd headbutted the fella for pushing me too hard about wanting an answer, I thought I'd be thelastperson he wanted to see. I couldn't blame him.
I wouldn't have wanted to see me, either.
"This business you say you have inside Fortification Hill..." Hsu inquired. "Can I ask what it is?"
I looked back across the room at Boone, stood firm by the doorway, and found his eyes were already on me before mine met him.
I couldn't begin to describe the way he was looking at me, because nothing seemed out of the ordinary. His expression was plain, nearly stoic, even. His stance, arms folded and his back pressed against the cold, gray concrete wall behind him, like some bodyguard. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Yet, I knew what he was saying with that look of his.
It was strange, this exchange of a silent remark that only the two of us were aware of. Perhaps even he wasn't aware of it, and only I was the one comforted by the words he said to me that he never said out loud.
"It's okay,"Boone seemed to be saying."Nobody's gonna make you say it, but I'm right here if you do."
For someone who had been so silent during the entire conversation I'd had with Colonel Hsu so far, Boone always made it easier to talk about things I otherwise wouldn't have. In that room, in the city of Vegas and perhaps even all of the state, there was nobody who I felt understood me in quite the same way that he did.
And that wasexactlywhy I found it easier to say it.
"Legion took my little sister. She's just turned nine last month, September 3rd." I got out, holding Hsu's gaze that turned that same'oh,god'expression that Benny had gotten when I'd told him the same thing.
"'Ya don't gotta say no more, Nev,"I thought to myself, biting down the sting that had familiarized itself on my tongue at each mention of her, and the bitter thought of what might be happening to her or how damn scared she might be."He just asked for a reason, anythin' to keep him on the hook."
Every time I thought about her being stuck in that godforsaken place, in glimpses in my nightmares of every horrific scenario, I wanted to throw up. Or scream. Or throw all caution to the wind and slip out of Vegas in the middle of the night with my iron on my hip, not a f*cking care in the world about whether I got a machete to the gut as long as I got her out of there.
Screw the guns and the Mark of Caesar, I'd think on occasion, because I was getting her out of that place, even if itkilledme to do it.
It frustrated me that I'd been able to see the stupid goddamn logic in waiting for the Mark of Caesar, something that stopped Legionaries from being able to lay a hand on me on their soil as long as I didn't start a fight or let them think I'd be a problem. I couldn't risk dying there for nothing if it turned out that she'd been moved out of state.
Someonehad to trek out there and get her back.
I'd known ever since I was thirteen, since the moment that little girl was born, that I'd give up my life for her. Ever since I held her, wrapped up in an old rag shirt doubling as a blanket, kissed her forehead and rocked her gently in my arms until her cries ebbed away, I knew I'd die for her.
I'ddiefor her,livefor her,survivefor her,killfor her --all of it.
Virginia was worth it.
She was wortheverythingI'd ever given up, andmore.
"I'm gettin' her outta there." I went on, glancing over at Boone who bowed his head reassuringly. "Got convinced to play it safe on the way in. Thought it'd give me a better chance to scout out the inside, make sure she's actually in there or see if she got sold off outta state. If so, I'll follow the trail from there."
With a grunt, I pushed myself off the edge of the table and reveled in the momentary satisfaction of finding solid ground. It wasn't the stability I was looking for, but it wassomethingat least.
"That'swhat my business is, Colonel." I locked eyes with Hsu. "Weallgot a stake in this."
"I can see that." Hsu hummed, voice low and considerate.
It actually sounded like he cared, something I wasn't sure whether or not I'd expected. He'dasked,after all, so perhaps he did.
"Listen, I like what you're offering, and if it were up to just me, I'd agree to this deal right here and now." Colonel Hsu leaned forward off the front of his desk. "I can see the benefits and I can't think where we could possibly stand to lose out here-"
"Butwhat?"
I kinda figured a'but'was coming. The look on Hsu's face that followed only confirmed it.
"But..."Hsu repeated after me."The decision isn'tjustup to me."
"Who else?" I inquired, folding my arms impatiently over my chest.
"Used to be that all political allegiance affairs were handled by Ambassador Crocker at the Embassy on The Strip, but with rising tensions brewing, well..."
He sighed deeply, reeking of audible regret.
"Thatdecision gets finalized by Colonel Cassandra Moore, based over at the Dam, even thoughItechnically have more authority. That's just the way we chose to allocate these decisions."
Hsu shrugged his shoulders, and the hopeful look he threw my way did nothing of soothing my frustrations.
"I can give you a recommendation..." Colonel Hsu offered. "Though, with the way things are going around this camp right now, she might not take my recommendation seriously."
"The hell do 'ya mean,'the way things are goin'?'"
I bit down as hard as possible on the inside of my cheek, willing that gnawing swell of heat bubbling under the surface to simmer down, though the cutting edge of my voice certainly wouldn't, as I gestured outwardly towards the door in the direction of the exit doors, through which were the crates of firearms out in the parking lot, and stepped forward across the gray floor tiles of the dingy office.
"Y'all just got ahugeshipment of weapons." I ranted. "Ain't that enough?"
Meeting me halfway, Boone strode hurriedly across the floor, coming up to my side and placing a firm hand upon my shoulder, patting it lightly.
"Cool it, Nevada." He murmured.
"I'mcalm."I insisted in a hiss, brushing his hand off from my shoulder and stepping backwards a few paces.
"Calm like abomb."Boone retorted lowly, decidedly posting up against the wall beside the portrait of Kimball like he needed to stay close in the event he needed to intervene and tear me off Hsu."Breathe:we're not having a repeat of what happened in Mick and Ralph's store."
I didn't see any Miniguns nearby that I could launch at Hsu, nor did I imagine that I'd manage to kick his dick so hard it inverted before Boone could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, so a repeat of the fiasco at Mick and Ralph's store didn't seem like it'd be in the cards.
I looked up. Turned my attention away from Colonel Hsu and Boone, and looked up, taking in a deep breath. I squeezed my eyes closed tight, soaking in the darkness it allowed with the inhale, and opened them again with the exhale easing off the piping hot heat under my skin.
There was a layer of dust on the bright, white light-bulb, casting down an almost fluorescent, eye-aching light on the grimy concrete walls of the square office. The light bounced off the metal, bounced right back into my eyes and stung at the right side of my head where Benny's bullet had carved through my brain like a knife through Cram.
I blinked, turning my head back down and internally cursing myself.
But, I'd breathed, just like Boone had advised, and I felt better aboutnotlaunching an attack on an NCR Colonel for telling me I had yet another person to discuss matters with and win over in order to get this deal sorted in order to get that goddamn Mark of Caesar.
I recalled the name'Moore'yet I had no recollection of meeting the woman herself. Could be that I'd dropped off packages to her in the past in a fleeting visit on one of my jobs, or that I'd simply heard other NCR officials bring up her name in conversation before, but she didn't ring any bells as someone I was actually familiar with.
I figured, if Ihadseen her before, I'd know once I took business to her at Hoover Dam. Which, apparently, I'dhave to,seeing as how I'd need her approval for the deal to go through pending a recommendation from Hsu.
I turned my gaze back across to Hsu, who still stood at the front of his desk and had been eyeing my quiet exchange with Boone with intrigue yet, when he'd seen that it was over, he cleared his throat and continued like nothing had happened, easily brushing off the fact that a few more moments of Boone's inaction may have led to some kind of screaming match.
"Usually, I wouldn't divulge information like this to anyone who isn't currently enlisted..." Hsu began, lowering his voice and strolling leisurely towards us. "But the both of you haven't been here long enough to raise suspicions that you're involved, so I see no risk in telling you."
He came to a stop just a few feet away, glancing at the closed door to his right and the one adjacent to it. Then, when he was satisfied that the doors were both closed and nobody was peering in through them to eavesdrop, he looked back at the both of us, lines forming in his forehead.
"We're fighting a lot of fires right now." Hsu told us. "I can barely send my squad on abathroom breakwithout being ambushed by someone who knew they were coming. Someone's getting the word out."
"Someone close?" I asked.
Hsu nodded curtly.
"We dealt with sh*t like this before." I turned my head towards Boone, recalling the whole damn situation with Jeanie May Crawford. "Ain't that right, Boone?"
"That's right." Boone confirmed, and that confirmation seemed to satisfy Hsu.
The idea came to me all at once: in order to make Colonel Hsu look better and increase the likelihood of his recommendation of the deal being accepted by Colonel Moore, the problems around Camp McCarran had to be eliminated.
Considering that I'd uncovered issues in The Strips's casinos in two days and revealed Jeanie's conspiracy with the Legion in just one night, I had a good feeling that these issues weren't anything I couldn't handle. Boone's company, too, only aided me in that regard -- two heads were better than one, and I trusted Boone's judgement.
My momma always used to say that snipers had good instincts, which I wholeheartedly believed. Boone proved that notion right.
Usually, I'd barter for something in return. Something, anything material I could use, or eat. I didn't like the idea of doing favors for nothing in return, but this deal was huge -- so damn huge, calling for an alliance between an army from California and the man on a giant terminal screen ruling over New Vegas with an army of upgraded robots, that I valued getting the deal accepted and getting myself on the way with securing that Mark of Caesar. I could settle for not taking anything else in return.
Getting Virginia home at the end of it was enough.
Besides, I'd already bartered with House for a suite in the Lucky 38 containing enough preserved, boxed food and liquor, decent living arrangements and a hell of a lot of caps that I'd scored with Benny's gambling skills. So far, I'd hit a new high, only toned down by the fact I'd had my little sister snatched up by the Legion.
I thought, if I did decide to bring her to Vegas for a short while after getting her out of Fortification Hill, she'd have the time of her life exploring that suite -- exploring the city as a whole, really, if she wasn't completely overwhelmed by all the noise and flashing lights.
That thought of her, the thought of bringing her home, the smile she'd have on her face that made the dimples in her chubby freckled cheeks even more prominent, the skipping steps she'd take as she'd eagerly explore the place and find all the more things to love blindly and unconditionally, kept me grounded in all the times I felt I wasn't. My stable ground.
I found peace in her.
For that, I'd do whatever it took to keep it that way.
"We'll deal with this for 'ya." I decided. "And when it's all said 'n done, ain't nobody gotta know we had anythin' to do with it. Credit's yours, long as you're agreein' to recommend this deal to Moore once this issue's sorted."
Hsu looked more than relieved at that. He let out a sigh, heavy, yet it looked like he'd gotten years younger just letting it off his chest. When he straightened himself up, I could've sworn he looked taller, and his face was more relaxed, too. A small smile even tugged at his lips as he extended out his hand yet again, and this time I shook it immediately.
"I find those terms suitable." Colonel Hsu gave a nod of his head, that small smile edging wider. "Speak with Captain Ronald Curtis, he's got an office to the west of the escalators and down the corridor. I've been having him look into the intel leaks, so he should be able to give you some more information. And if you're looking for somethingelseto occupy your day, Major Dhatri -- you'll have seen him on your way in -- is offering rewards for three Fiend bounties. If you run into Lieutenant Boyd, she might rope you into helping out with an interrogation, but, uh, I think that's enough on your plates for the time being."
As he spoke, Colonel Hsu moved back behind his desk and had begun to busy himself with tidying up his many stacks of documents already littering its surface.
I looked towards Boone at my side yet again and, while exasperated at the thought of being roped into dealing with the majority of Camp McCarran's issues, thought it'd be a good way to make our chances of getting the deal accepted even better.
In all honesty, I probably should'a expected that Hsu would dump a load more jobs on us, but it was still morning: there was plenty of time to resolve everyone else's f*cking problems in order to fix mine in the long run.
I nodded my head towards the door we'd entered from. Boone moved towards it, and I followed suit, until Hsu's voice caught my attention just as I'd reached the open doorway.
"Oh, and before I forget..." Hsu poked his head over the many stacks of documents. "Nevada?"
I spun on my heel, resting my shoulder against the open doorway.
"That's my name."
"Getting someone like you on the inside of Fortification Hill would beextremelybeneficial for the NCR."
Hsu stood up from behind the stack of documents at his desk, and while the tone of his voice carried no overall coldness, it was clear enough from his expression that he was serious.
"If you secure any intel from the inside, be sure to share it with usfirst."
"I will." I nodded, mostly because I wasn't making a concrete promise or anything.
It would be more down to circ*mstance, a hypothetical one, in which I wasn't obliged to do anything unless intel fell right into my hands.
"Understand, though, that my main priority is gettin' my little sister outta that sh*thole."
'Main'was an understatement.
Really, it was myonlypriority.
"I don't doubt that, and I understandcompletely-"
"No, Colonel, 'yadon't."I cut in. Hsu stared, visibly taken aback by my interruption, but didn't say a word about it.
I took a breath, collecting myself.
"But, yeah,ifit happens that I pick somethin' up from the inside, I'll let 'cha get first dibs."
"If I can tell Colonel Moore that you're willing to secure intel from the inside of Fortification Hill, that might help boost the recommendation I can give you for this deal." Hsu added, gesturing between us. "So it benefitsallof us, you see?"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." I batted my hand dismissively. "We'll let'cha know when we make progress here."
I turned my attention back towards my first recon companion, standing idly a few meters away in the center of the terminal lobby with an inquisitive look on his face, like he was keeping an eye on me and trying to figure out my next move in case he needed to intervene at a moment's notice.
"Boone?" I beckoned. "Lead the way, buddy."
Though Hsu had told me the way to go to get to Captain Ronald Curtis, I let Boone walk ahead down the west-side corridor just next to the entrance to Hsu's office.
There were so many goddamn doors around, countless offices that didn't seem to be marked anything recognizable. Boone, though, had spent a couple days revisiting the place, and perhaps he already knew his way around from his days enlisted, so I let him go on ahead.
Certainly seemed like he knew what he was doing, as he strode ahead, footsteps echoing off the walls with each stride and matched by the rhythmic jangling of my spurred boots, and came up to a door just behind the block-walls of Hsu's office on the left-side wall.
He rapped his fist sharply against the door, pausing for just a moment, then decidedly pushed it inwards and stepped inside. I followed shortly behind.
Inside the small, gray office were a few desks pushed up against the wall adjacent to the door and the left side, forming a large corner workspace. Off on the far side, pushed into the corner was a metal-framed bed with a dirty-looking mattress atop it. The thin sheets over it were neatly tucked, military-style, with that almost obsessively tidy detail and not a single crease in sight.
Nothing else besides, really: working and sleeping spaces really seemed to be the only thing of importance, which I figured made sense for a military base outside the splendor and towering walls of New Vegas.
Upon a chair tucked into the desk pressed against the adjacent wall, there was an unremarkable-looking man dressed in the regular khaki-colored getup of most of the Troopers manning the base.
He was white, military short-cropped dark hair that looked black beneath the meagre light provided by the white fluorescent bulb that buzzed like Cazador wings overhead. Sharp features, a thin form, and quick eyes marked him as he sat there in that office chair, entrenched in the busy writing of some paperwork or other.
'Curtis,'it read on the collar tag of his uniform.
With a shared glance between us, Boone and I confirmed silently that we'd found the man we were looking for.
He didn't even seem to have heard us, having been so completely mentally ensconced in his work, that it was only when his eyes drifted too far off the edge of his paper that those eyes of his shot wide and his whole body jolted back, like a man struck by electricity.
"Sweet mother of Atom!" Captain Ronald Curtis hissed, gritting his teeth and placing a hand over his chest. "You scared thecrapoutta me!"
"How?"
I stared at the Captain, completely dumbfounded and with a curl of my lip.
"I jingled all the goddamn way here, and this big guy next to me wasn't eventryin'to stay quiet."
I gestured to Boone, who had settled in the doorway on my right side, and looked as genuinely baffled as I did at how our arrival had come as a surprise.
I hadn't even mentioned that Boone had knocked and waited before entering -- I'd thoughtthatwould tip anyone off that they weren't as alone as they thought they'd been, but the guy must have been so dead to the world and entranced in whatever the hell it was he was writing up that our entrance must have been nothing more than background noise he tuned out.
Curtis shook off his surprise hurriedly, fumbling quickly with the documents he covered with his hands and shoved into the bottom of a drawer of his desk, lines forming on his brow and his face flushing red with annoyance.
"What do youwant?"He spat, staggering to straighten himself up and regain the composure he'd lost, and rolled the office chair in front of the drawer that he'd tucked those papers away in.
"Maybe we caught him writin' up confidential sh*t,"I pondered silently."He sure don't seem pleased to see us 'n we ain't evendoneanythin' outwardly to piss him off, 'sides existin' 'n bein' in his presence. But surely there'd be more precautions for writin' confidential stuff, right? Like, y'know, puttin' a lock on the door to stop folks like us bargin' in. Did he expect us to announce our presence by shakin' him or firin' a gun into the air?"
"Colonel Hsu said we should talk to 'ya 'bout the intel leaks." I informed him, shaking off my stare of dumbfoundedness before he could register it and perhaps get evenmoredefensive.
With a deep and heavy sigh as Curtis resigned himself to compliance with the two f*ckers who had barged into his office, he leaned back in the office chair.
He began fumbling about with the drawer that he had stacked the documents inside, like he was ensuring it was well and truly closed before rolling back a short distance. His fingers interlaced, positioned in a triangle-shape, like one of those old movie posters displaying the nefarious, plotting villain of some spy flick.
My old man had gotten one working in one of those outdoor drive-ins one time, laid out a blanket in the back of one of those rusted old trucks that'd be stuck there forever and the lot of us -- myself, my momma and poppa, Georgia, and a week-old Virginia -- had spent around two hours under the stars watching the only film available: a spy one. I didn't remember much of the film except for the villain in it, mostly because I thought it was ridiculous how he'd looked, sitting in a spinning office chair with his hands positioned in a triangle-shape like he was forming a business deal or something.
It was the only film I'd ever actually seen, yet I only paid attention when the villain was on the screen because I was busy holding Virginia at the time to give my folks a break and a chance to kick back. Plus, I always liked holding her. My momma always said I was the only one who could ever get her to stop crying.
So, whenever the villain showed up on screen, I'd held Virginia close and whispered silly little things about how ridiculous he'd looked or acted, or how corny the whole thing was, or how I'deasilybe able to outsmart any villainous spy. Things likethat.Anything to make her feel less scared of some silly-looking villain in a spinning office chair.
That was what Curtis reminded me of, sat like that.
Weirdest form of deja-vu I ever did have.
"The Colonel's a smart man." Curtis commented, nodding his head along like he was agreeing with what he was saying. "Whoever this mole is, he's been slippery. Our last lead went cold weeks ago. Seems that whenever one of the MP's gets too close, he changes his habits."
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight a bit in the office chair, and motioned out the door as if pointing across to the opposite side of the terminal building.
"I'd advise talking with others who have more eyes on the field. Lieutenant Boyd or Sergeant Contreras." He went on, turning his chair to face back towards the desk then, gestured a pointed finger towards us. "Be careful with Contreras, though. He's not above suspicion himself."
"Neither areyou."I reminded him, folding my arms over my chest and leaning my shoulder against the doorway.
"What'sthatsupposed to mean?" Curtis sputtered.
My comment had earned a rather shocked and'how-dare-you'expression from him, one that nearly made me crack a smile as I watched him attempt to regain his composure yet again.
"Colonel Hsu allowed me to head this investigation for areason."
"I'm just sayin' it's a good idea to be suspicious ofeveryonestationed here, ain't it? That includesyou."I shrugged my shoulders casually, to which Curtis frowned and I noticed Boone give me a side-eyed look like he was trying to figure out where the hell I was going with all of this. "Can't be too careful.Nobody'sabove suspicion."
"I... suppose you may have a point."
Curtis frowned, dropping his gaze for a second, then sat up and fussed with the collar of his uniform.
"Good observation." He noted, and didn't sound pleased about it one bit -- I figured NCR officials didn't much like having the obvious pointed out to them. "But, if you discover any new leads, you're to come tome.Is thatunderstood?"
I did't like the tone of his voice when he said that.
My face must have shown it, despite my brain's best efforts to keep my disdain for being talked down to under wraps, as I felt the muscles in my face twitch into a heavy scowl.
"She understands, Captain."
Boone hurriedly took me by my shoulders and scooted me backwards out of the doorway before I could say anything that might have gotten us into trouble.
"We'll start by talking to Lieutenant Boyd." Boone added, quickly taking a hold of the handle of the door. "Thank you for your time."
Boone closed the door and began walking me, leading me by my shoulders back along the corridor that led out from beneath the escalators, past Hsu's office and pointed me off towards the set of escalators on the right side of the terminal lobby.
"Y'know, when you're all respectful, 'ya sound even more serious." I mumbled my commentary, casting a fleeting backwards glare in the direction of the office belonging to Curtis, a silent'f*ck you'that he didn't need to hear, but one I wanted to say nonetheless. "I didn't thinkthatwaspossible."
"I didn't realize I was doing anything different." Boone said as we strolled around the side of the small sandbag wall surrounding the entrance of the terminal building, glancing down towards me with a raise of his eyebrow. "My voicechanges?"
"A bit." I nodded, preparing myself to deepen my voice and willed my strong southern accent to take five for the sake of accuracy. "Like,'I'm Boone and I'm a serious, serious man with big muscles and a shiny bald head.'"
I cleared my throat, dropping the accent and hoping for it to never return.
"Likethat."
"Wow, that'ssuchanaccurateimpression of me." Boone droned sarcastically, shaking his head as we reached the foot of the escalators, where he motioned forwards for me to go on ahead first. "I say thatallthe time..."
I rolled my eyes at his tedious sarcasm when the bounce of the overhead lights shining down on the back of his bald head beneath his beret caught me attention and completely derailed my train of thought.
"Would 'ya ever let me slap your head?" I came to a brief stop at the foot of the stationary escalator, turning my back against the handrail while I looked up at Boone with a tilt of my head. "Just, like, alittlebit?"
"Why do youwantto slap my head, Nevada?"
"It lookssoshiny, 'n I bet it'll sound so satisfyin' and crisp..." I managed a little smile, which did not seem to reassure Boone one bit. "Justoneslap, that'sallI ask."
In my head, I started sizing up the distance between us, the height and whether or not I'd be able to land a satisfying slap across the back of his head by jumping. I thought not.
He'd probably have to lean down for me to reach better, to get a better wind-up and aim the palm of my hand to crack against the back of his bald head well enough that all my intrusive thoughts of the perfect, crisp slap could be silenced forever.
I'd actually seen Boone shaving his head yesterday morning when we crossed paths in the shared bathroom we had in the High Roller suite. First time I'd seen him without his beret and shades on, and I'd damn near had a heart attack thinking he was some random intruder. I couldn't imagine the guy with hair, in the same way it was hard to imagine him again without his shades and beret.
As far as I was concerned, he slept in his shades and beret every night. I wouldn't have been surprised if he did.
"I'll let you slap my head when you canreachit." Boone retorted, taking me by my shoulders yet again and steering me up the stairs of the stationary elevator. "C'mon, shorty."
I trudged ahead, leaning back a little against the sturdiness of Boone's hands on my shoulders in fake reluctance to go, all the way up the stairs until we reached the top.
"Alright," I sighed deeply, feigning hurt. "But, for the record, I'm gonna be thinkin' 'bout itallday and I ain't pleased 'bout that."
At the top of the escalators, the floor opened up ahead, separated into two areas on the left and right at the far section of the top floor.
On the left was a small room that, at a glance through the opened door, seemed to contain holding cells lined with floor-to-ceiling iron bars, a few sparsely covered wire-framed beds pushed into the corner of each and, on the right side was a closed door, outside which a round-faced, brunette woman in uniform was smoking a cigarette, dark circles lining her eyes and a cigarette poised between her pouted pink lips.
Behind us and around the side to our left was the balcony floor leading all the way towards the Concourse down a large and wide stretching corridor. On the opposite side of the top floor, all the way past the top of the escalators on the other side of the floor, beneath which was Hsu's office, the corridor seemed to be marked for some sort of monorail.
My best guess was that it connected the NCR base at McCarran to The Strip, since I'd passed by the Las Vegas Boulevard Station on my way to The Tops and The Ultra Luxe. Soldiers probably used it to travel there whenever they went on leave from their assignments.
I turned my gaze back ahead, back to the woman in the NCR uniform leaning back against the door to the room on the right side, carefully regarding us as we made our approach, heavy-footed and jingling all the damn way.
"I'm sure you'll manage."
Boone patted my shoulder in that sort of mocking'suffer through it'way, striding ahead towards the woman, and shook her hand in greeting.
"Lieutenant Boyd."
That ever-so-serious and respectful tone of his had made its reappearance the second he made contact with another member of the NCR. It was like someone had flicked a switch in his brain, altering the tone of his voice so easily and quickly that it threw me a bit.
I blinked, staring at Boone in a bedazzled'what the f*ck was that'expression that I quickly brushed off my face before anyone could comment on it.
"Craig Boone -- well, what a nice surprise." Greeted Lieutenant Boyd in kind, lowering her cigarette from her mouth with her free hand. "I thought I saw you wandering around a few days ago."
She co*cked an eyebrow, looking at him inquisitively.
"Did you re-enlist?"
"No, no, I didn't." Boone shook his head, then gestured towards me at his side. "This is-"
"Nevada Morgan." Boyd looked towards me, and for a second, I thought she seemed almost impressed, yet she didn't let herself get too close for me. "Never thought I'd meetyouin the flesh and live to tell about it."
She eyed me carefully, with a tinge of a lightly nervous and curious smile.
"What bringsyouto Camp McCarran?"
"We was wonderin' whether 'ya noticed anythin' suspicious goin' on 'round here."
"Suspicious?"
Boyd hummed, her whole face contorting in serious thought as she took a long and heavy drag of her cigarette.
"I've mostly been hearing word of someone sneaking into the control tower at night. Chalk it up to some of the troopers slipping in there for a steamy military-base love affair: some people just can't seem to wait until they're let off for leave to get it on."
"I can't blame 'em,"I thought."If I was just walkin' the same buildin', the same base every damn day, I'd get bored 'n look for some stress-relief, too."
"Control tower?" I repeated. "There's abunchof towers 'round here."
"I'll point it out to you." Boone chimed in, then turned his attention back towards Boyd. "I thought the control tower was only accessible to a select few people around the base."
"Itis."Boyd confirmed gruffly. "Besides myself, there's perhaps only five or so people that actually have an access code. So unless it's two of those five hooking up, or they're handing off their access codes to let other people fool around in there, then I'm at a loss."
We didn't have much to go off about the intel leaks, but the control tower was certainly a start. I had to imagine that a control tower of any kind might be the sort of thing to give us a heads-up about the intel leaks that we'd been told about by Hsu and Curtis. I couldn't imagine spending the whole day patrolling the base, interrogating each and every soldier we ran across with some hopes that we'd find the right person that way.
"We'll check it out." I informed her. "But we'll needyouraccess code to get in there."
I'd decided I wasn't f*cking about with terminals for the rest of the day.
I hated hacking, mostly because I sucked at it and partly because I wondered how anybody actually had the time to make passwords and sh*t when the world had taken atomic blast like the most poorly-aimed facial in history.
I wasn't about to start guessing password codes to get into a control tower, just to get frustrated, smash the terminal and then blow our cover if it happened that anybody was, in fact, in that tower.
"Knock yourselves out." Boyd chuckled darkly, motioning back to the door behind her. "If I wasn't so tied up here, I'd be checking it out myself."
Hsu had said something about an interrogation. I always found interrogations went a lot faster with the use of violence. A few dislocated joints here, a few broken bones there, some bruises, cuts and scrapes. I thought, though, that the NCR might object to the use of violence with anybody in their custody, so they'd probably have to try it the hard way:talking.
Boyd reached into her pocket and produced a small card, on which there was a series of numbers and dashes beneath her name written in bold black print.'Lieutenant Carrie Boyd'was the name on her access code card. I took the card, slipped it into the cup of my bra beneath my white button-down for safekeeping, earning a nod of approval from the lieutenant.
Boone respectfully looked away while I did so, only turning his head back in my direction when he was sure he wasn't going to get a glimpse of my tit*.Smart man.
"Good luck." Boyd nodded to us. "Let me know if you find anything."
With that said and done, Boone and I strolled side-by-side down the escalators down to the lobby floor. As we headed towards the entrance, Boone quickly pointed out that the control tower was out through the sliding garage door past the line of terminal-topped desks on the opposite side of the lobby from the entrance.
I took note of that in my mind for later, I knew we wouldn't be staking it out until later that night so between now and then, we'd have to kill the time somehow.
We exited through the entrance doors, meeting the late morning sunlight beating down on the gray concrete parking lot, and took some shelter from the blinding rays beneath the shadowy shelter of the alcove around the entrance.
"We'll stake out the tower tonight." I reminded Boone. "I reckon it's gotta be tied to those intel leaks."
"I have the same feeling." Boone agreed.
His eyes squinted behind his shades as we observed the whole parking lot, the rows of barracks and the many parked trucks.
"There's radio equipment up there. It's as good a place as any for some kind of informant to hang out." He said. "'Til then, we've got the whole day to kill. What do you think we should do?"
I gazed around the parking lot, the silhouettes of towering Vegas buildings over the skyline.
I didn't fancy heading back. Notyet,anyway.
Figured that, while I was at Camp McCarran, I might as well see to as much business there as I possibly could. Put off heading back and talking to Benny for as long as possible, until I'd figured out what I was going to say and how I was going to say it, anddefinitelyuntil I was sure he'd had enough time away from me to see to that busted nose of his.
That was when I looked over to my left, over towards Dhatri, still lingering off outside the terminal building while Troopers continued to bustle about, still counting and checking all the firearms that had been brought over from Gomorrah.
Hsu had mentioned something about Dhatri putting out bounties.
Thatseemed a good a way to pass the timeandhelp out with the issues around the base.
"Bounty huntin'?"
I turned my head up towards Boone, motioning towards Dhatri.
"Bounty hunting?" He repeated with a raise of his eyebrow.
"Bounty huntin'."I nodded.
"Bounty huntingit is."
We went off towards Dhatri, inquired about the bounties he was putting out.
Three fiends: Violet, Driver Nephi, and Cook-Cook.
Gave us their descriptions, so we'd know who exactly to pick out from the areas surrounding the South Vegas ruins, not too far away from Camp McCarran itself. Said he'd even pay us, as long as we brought back their heads intact as proof that we'd done the job.
According to Dhatri, Violet had a mass of vicious dogs surrounding her base just south of a Poseidon gas station, all centered around a circle of broken down trailers, cars -- basically, a huge f*cking junk yard. Fed her dogs human flesh to get them used to the taste of it.
Needless to say, Boone and I were in agreement that we'd be taking out her dogsfirstbefore we closed in on her. I still had Benny's tribal-looking knife tucked away in my boot, his gun in my holster. Seemed I'd be taking both of his weapons out for a test-drive.
Driver Nephi, as Dhatri informed us, was a brutal son of a bitch who took pleasure in caving in NCR Troopers' heads with a golf club, and took up a post just northwest of the Samson rock-crushing Plant surrounded by a number of other Fiends. Long as we stayed out of reach of that golf club of his, Boone and I would be perfectly fine -- we were both good shots, though we had to resist the urge to aim for the head.
Cook-Cook was a whole other nasty motherf*cker, Dhatri told us, and kept his voice low when he did.
He told us that Cook-Cook used a Flamer, based himself within the South Vegas ruins with many other Fiends that he cooked for. Had a pet Brahmin he called Queenie that, apparently, he adored. Cooked their food for them, and had racked up a pretty high kill-count of NCR Troopers.
And when Dhatri told us that Cook-Cook had raped Betsy, suddenly those bruises around her neck and her dead-behind-the-eyes look she had given me made sense.
We set out towards South Vegas shortly after grabbing a length of rope that I slung over my shoulder so I'd be able to tie their heads to my hips. I'd think of it like a temporary belt decoration, except instead of something fancy and shiny and nice-looking, it'd be the bloody, decapitated heads of some Fiends who f*cking deserved it.
Violet went down easy.
Once her dogs were all splayed out across the dry earth, each having taken a bullet from myself or Boone, who had taken up a temporary refuge at the top of one of the trailers to stay out of the way of their snarling teeth, the bitch was so distraught over her mongrels kicking the dust that she went into a frenzy. Ashort-livedfrenzy, mind you: Boone told me to cover my ears right before he squeezed the trigger, and sent the crazy bitch down to the dust, just like her dogs.
She'd lived like a dog.
Only seemed fitting that she'd die like one.
Driver Nephi was next.
Taking down the Fiends who surrounded him wasn't much of a bother. Boone sniped some from a distance at some post we'd taken up on one of the many buildings overlooking the ruins Nephi inhabited. Then, the ones who were out in the open, running towards the two of us, I made short work of with Benny's golden piece, while Boone covered my ears so as to avoid them ringing like a bell.
We recognized Nephi by his golf club, raised as ready as he ran across the earth towards us with a mighty, frenzied cry to the heavens that never answered him. The only answer he got was one of my bullets through his chest.
After I'd taken his head, lashed it to my belt alongside Violet's, I took his golf club, too.
We saved Cook-Cook for last, and we made goddamn sure that he heard us coming, with the jingle-jangle of my spurs through the concrete ruins and a decided echoing gunshot right through his chest.
I sliced his balls off, castrated the f*cker after his heart stopped, tossed them into one of his cooking pots still bubbling away over an open fire. Then I ran the sharp edge of the knife along the length of his dick, sliced it from base to tip and flayed it like red motherf*cking butterfly wings.
When I cut the thing from his body, I could feel Boone physically recoil at the sight of it. I bounced it in my hands, the loose flesh opened up and flapped crimson-red droplets to the earth. Just like butterfly wings.
I smeared it across the gray walls of the ruins like a f*cking paintbrush, drew out the words in blood across the concrete, ones I hoped would be a warning to anybody else.
"He had it coming."
Beneath it, with a shiv I snatched from a dilapidated set of shelves, I pinned the flayed flesh of his mutilated dick. It hung there, weeping red that would never be enough to redeem him for what he'd done, marking pools droplet by droplet upon the ground.
If the words weren't enough of a warning, then his severed dick and the stump at the top of his neck sure as sh*twas.
By the time that Boone and I arrived back at Camp McCarran, it must have been mid-afternoon, judging by the sun's position in the bright blue sky.
We trudged across the parking lot side by side, my spurs jingling with each step that swayed the three severed heads lashed to my belt, frozen in time with their final expressions etched onto their dead faces.
We passed by the barracks on the way back towards Dhatri, and when I felt eyes on me, I didn't even need to look initially to know that Betsy was watching me.
Nevertheless, I turned, met her gaze, and let her witness the sight of her rapists head dangling from my belt.
And I could've sworn, even if just a little bit, I saw her smile.
It didn't fix it.
Didn't take away what he'd done.
She'd suffer with it for a damn long time, and maybe the feeling of it wouldn't ever go away completely. Maybe it'd resurface at times, on her skin or in her nightmares, or when she was intimate with someone she agreed to being intimate with. Sometimes itwouldn't,sometimes itwould.And it'd hurt for a damn long time, long after those bruises around her neck marked by his hands faded.
Killing Cook-Cook didn't take away the fact he'd raped her.
Nothing could ever takethataway.
I'd just hoped she knew that he hadn't gotten away with it.
We handed the heads in to Dhatri, who inspected each one with a grim face and, once he was done confirming that we'd rid him of those troublesome Fiends, handed over a small sack of caps for it, which I let Boone take.
With what Benny had gambled for my twenty-thousand, even with whatever Georgia's medical expenses took from it, I knew I had more than enough that I could manage without it.
Dhatri thanked us profusely for it, said we'd done a great service in avenging the lives of all the fallen NCR Troopers who'd been done in by those freshly decapitated f*ckers. I told him to let Hsu take the credit for it: he'd mentioned it first, set us in that direction and while I didn't say it to Dhatri, I figured that the more I let Hsu take credit for, the better our chances were with him convincing Moore to hear him out about the deal.
Dhatri just nodded his head, didn't question it: I knew they were always looking for ways to put more medals on one of their own, which worked in my favor in that instance.
Once all the heads were handed in and my belt was finally free of its macabre decoration, Boone and I headed back on inside the terminal building and, after heading to the Concourse to grab a box of Dandy Boy Apples that we devoured between us with a bottle of Nuka Cola, we exited and went on towards the holding cells on the right side of the upper terminal lobby.
The heat of the day and running about the South Vegas ruins, dodging Fiends and vicious dogs left and right, had taken its toll on me. Granted, I hadn't slept all that well the night before, and the wild corridor and floor sex I'd had with Benny hadreallystarted to catch up with me. The more I thought about it, the more my legs ached and wobbled.
I tried not to think about it.
Tried not to think abouthim.
Every time I did, my thoughts just spiraled back to now I'd busted his nose, and all I could think after that was that he'd be well within his rights to sucker-punch me in the face.
I think, between us, neither Boone or myself had actually been sleeping all that well. Given all that had happened, I wasn't half surprised, but we'd decided to head off towards the holding cells left empty by a lack of inmates, and decided on a power-nap until the night rolled around.
Seeing as how we'd be staking out the control tower for suspicious activity, it seemed to be a good idea to get as much rest as possible. Stay on alert, watch out for trouble -- all that jazz.
We entered the small holding cell room, containing nothing more besides three small cell blocks against the back, chipped white-paint wall of the place, exposing splotches of gray behind it. The middle and far right cell were both locked tight, but the one on the left was open, so we slipped inside it and I pulled the door closed almost all the way, save for just a few inches.
"Look atus,sharin' acelltogether..."
I chuckled low, tossing Nephi's golf club off to the far left corner.
"If this ain't a soberin' reality for where our friendship's headed, thennothin'is." I motioned towards the wire-frame bed topped with a thin mattress. "'Ya wanna take the bed? I'll sleep on the floor."
"I can't let you sleep on thefloor."Boone shook his head, gesturing down to the grime-stained grey-white tiled floor. "Carla'd kick my ass if I did."
"Sure 'ya can." I waved my hand dismissively, removing my duster from around my shoulders and tossing it down atop the floor like a blanket. "Sleepin' on the floor feels more like home, anyhow. It's sleepin' inbedsthat I ain't real used to."
I plonked myself down on the ground atop my duster beside the bed and nodded my head in the direction of the bed on my left. Through the fabric of my coat, the soothing coolness of the ground peaked through. I imagined it'd feel a lot colder the longer I laid on it, but that was something I'd long since been used to.
Actually, thinking about it, I'd probably been spoiling myself in some way or another by actually having my own suite with Boone, a huge double bed and blankets and fluffy pillows, rather than just a pile of my clothes on the floor. When Virginia and I eventually went back home, I'd be back to sleeping on the floor. Which was fine, really. I didn't mind that.
It'd just be a small shock to the system after the temporary V.I.P treatment I'd achieved with my bargaining to nab a New Vegas suite, one I'd just have to settle back into.
Unless, of course, I scooped up all my blankets and pillows from my suite and dragged them back along Highway 95. Take what I was owed for all the work I'd been doing. Stick it to the man. All that jazz.
Nothing says'rebel'like running off with a pillow.
"Go on," I urged, noting Boone's conflicted and reluctant expression. "Just in case I thrash 'round so much in my sleep I fall off the bed 'n accidentally beat 'ya up again."
"Can't argue withyourright-hook, but don't say I didn't put up a fight about it, at least."
Boone slumped down on the squeaky mattress, reclining back and folding his arms behind his head with a heavy, exhausted groan.
We laid there in a comfortable silence for the next minute.
I rested my back flat against the floor, fumbled about with Benny's gun to check the magazine. Only one or two bullets left out of the thirteen. I'd saved some where I could by taking out a couple Fiends with Benny's knife, and was glad to find that I'd had some bullets left over, since the ten millimeter ones stuffed deep in my duster pockets formyiron wouldn't be any use for a nine millimeter like Benny's pretty golden piece.
Satisfied, I slid the pistol back into my holster, letting out a gentle exhale between my parted lips as I stared upwards at the ceiling above.
"Goddamn, Vi, 'ya ain't got acluehow much I miss 'ya right now..."I thought, feeling that heavy weight resettle back in the depths of my lungs."This is all for you, kid. All of it. Creatin' a deal between House 'n the NCR, contributin' to a f*ckin' arms-race -- that'sallforyou,Vi. I'll get'cha outta there. Just wait for me. I'll find 'ya."
"So, now we're alone and waiting it out to check out that tower..."
Boone's voice finally broke through the silence, through my thoughts I knew were damn close to getting the better of me.
I shifted my gaze towards the mattress, and there, Boone had shifted onto his side, his eyes fixed directly on me.
"Are you gonna tell me what's been going on with you?"
It didn't seem like we were sleeping just yet. Despite the fact I didn't particularly want to get into it, I thought, maybe, getting some of it off my chest might just make me feel more at ease. Boone always had a way of understanding without pity. Straightforward and to the point, I knew I could count on him better than any other traveling partner I'd ever had.
Not only that, but we were sharing a suite in New Vegas: I knew he wanted some form of answers for all that had been going on recently. He knew enough that there was sh*t on my mind, and I didn't much want him to think I didn't trust him. Idid.
I sighed deeply, regrettably, and folded my arms behind my head, having set my hat aside on the ground next to my duster.
"It's... alot."I mumbled dejectedly, running a hand back through my red ringlet curls, pushing them back from my face.
"We have the time." Boone assured me, as if I was more worried about our timekeeping than I was about totally bumming him out with what I had to say. "I've got the time to listen to you, Nevada."
He shuffled on the mattress, readjusting himself on his side to get more comfortable.
"Is it aboutBenny?"
"Atom above..." I groaned, leaning my head back against the ground and cupping my hands over my face. "I can'tbelieveI'mreallytalkin' 'bout somethin' like this..."
"So itis."Boone confirmed, to which I nodded for the added confirmation and peeked out between the gaps of my fingers. "I had a gut feeling it was."
I'd never been in that sort of situation where I had to talk about a guy before. Same thing went for women, too: I'd never been in a situation where I was dealing with some issues from a person of any gender that I was sleeping with. Because I'd never slept with anybody else more than once.
This whole goddamn arrangement with Benny had thrown me right into unfamiliar terrirory, and I had no f*cking idea what the hell I was meant to do, or say, or think.
It wasnew.
I felt like I was blindly groping around in the dark for some sense of where I was, and I was coming up at a loss, no idea what the ever-lovingf*ckwas going on.
I'd seen Georgia talking about guys as we'd grown up together. It all seemed to come so naturally to her that I wondered how the hell she'd learned to talk about it all so easily.Ididn't know how.
Granted, she talked about guys she was interested in dating, and Benny and I were certainly notthat.
The whole thing, though -- the whole thing of talking about a guy I guess I was in some way involved with, while there was no romantic relationship there, was something I wasn't so sure I knew how to do.
I didn't think I was good at it. I'd never practiced it before.
"Your sniper instincts are too damn good." I grumbled, readily resigning myself to compliance.
"'Ya gotta rip off the band-aid, Nev..."I thought to myself, willing myself to get out the words I felt I needed to get out."No turnin' back, just get it out 'n see what he's got to say."
"We been sleepin' together, me 'n Benny. Nothin'- nothin' more than that, we just-, it's just-, I mean..." I was already stumbling, andthatfrustrated me. "We made an arrangement to sleep together while I'm dealin' with all this business in New Vegas 'nnow,as of this mornin', we'reexclusivelysleepin' witheach other.It ain'tmorethan that: we ain'tdatin'or anythin', it's justsex."
Boone listened intently, the features of his face scrunching like he was taking in an analyzing everything I had to say, all while keeping his eyes fixed on me.
He was always careful to make sure I knew he was listening, and there was nothing about his expression that made me think he was about to be judgmental about it. Just blank, if not serious in his usual way.
That reassured me a bit.
Made it feel easier to go on.
"When I was talkin' to Georgia in the Old Mormon Fort, she got this idea in her head that I'mintohim 'cause I ain't killed him for what he'd done to me." I said. "Kinda got me all in a mess 'n I guess I was overtired, overdid it on the whiskey or somethin' and I wasn't thinkin' straight, so I went 'n hooked up with some broad and..."
I thought it better to skimp on the details there -- didn't need to give him anexplicitrun-through of the night.
"Long story short, it didn't go too well." I sighed."Thatwaslastnight."
"That wasafteryou slept with another woman that you came back to the Lucky 38 all... well, like you did?" Boone trod carefully over his words.
I nodded.
I don't think there was a polite way for him to say that I came back last night looking like sh*t, so he avoided saying it altogether.
"Did you get in afightwith this woman afterwards, or-"
"No,no!"I insisted.
I scratched in my head in silent contemplation of what I was about to ask. My face contorted in a light grimace, bracing itself.
"Have, uh..."
I hesitated.
"Oh, sweet baby Deathclaws, I'm gonna have to say it..."I thought, regrettably, and felt my teeth clench in a cringing grimace, preparing for the worst and the mere idea of having to paint such a mental image for Boone."He ain't ever gonna look at me the same. I'm gonna have to say it. sh*t, I'm gonna have to say it. Least I saved a few bullets to fire through my brain 'n do myself in for good."
I knew I had to say it.
"Have 'ya ever accidentally said someoneelse'sname when you're 'bout to...y'know?"
The pause that followed must have only been a few seconds.
It felt like aneternity.
"No, I haven't." Boone said with a little, low chuckle. "But Idofeel like I know where you're going with this. Carry on."
"Well, he ain't lookin' at me like I'm the worst person alive, so that'ssomethin'at least,"I thought, though I didn't feel all that much better about it -- it felt easier to carry on like he'd told me to."I can'tbelievehe ain't lookin' at me like I'm a total piece of sh*t."
"See, I thought I'd get through everythin' today all fine 'n dandy, get the guns outta Gomorrah with Benny's help without any issues... But the fella figured it out that I'd slept with someone else." I explained. "We got to arguin', amongotherthings-"
"Oh,my...-"
"-And then we agreed it'd be easier to just sleep with each other while I'm in Vegas."
I turned my attention away from his face and staring back up at the ceiling.
"Then, I don't know, he started gettin' all antsy when we were waitin' outside Gomorrah for the Securitrons to take the guns over here. Started askin' whether I cared 'bout him, all 'cause I saved his ass in The Ultra Luxe 'n kept him alive after everythin' that happened." I huffed. "He just keptbeggin'for an answer."
Boone looked over at me expectantly.
"And you said...?"
"He wouldn't let up, Boone."
I sat upright, completely meeting his gaze.
"Itriedtellin' him I couldn't- I couldn't deal withthatrightnow,but he just keptgoin''n keptaskin',so-"
"You busted his nose."
I nodded in agreement.
"Gave him a big 'ol headbutt..."
Boone couldn't hide the smile edging across his lips as much as he tried to.
"Then I ran over here." I shrugged, flopping back down onto the ground, staring up at the dingy gray ceiling. "That's everythin',mostly.Other than theobviousthat's botherin' me. What do 'ya make ofthat,huh?"
"I think..."
Boone paused, humming in consideration.
"I think it's a messy situation, for sure." He said.
I think he was putting thatlightly.
"Buthonestly?If you're askingme?"Boone caught my gaze."I think youshouldgive him an answer."
"I know."
I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment and hoping the darkness it afforded might just envelope me and suck me in, never allowing me to return.
I opened my eyes.
No such luck.
"It's just-, I've neverbeenin this sorta situation before."
I glanced back towards him.
"Haveyou?"
"No, never." Boone replied rather plainly, resting his head upon the pillow with his body facing towards me from his perch upon the bed.
He rubbed at his bicep, and behind his shades, I could see his eyes clouded with thoughts I wasn't sure I should disrupt.
"Carla and I, we never left things unsaid -- notever."He told me. "We werealwaysstraightforward with everything we wanted to say. Never had a fight that wasn't resolved within the day -- thehour,even."
"We're not you 'n Carla."
I'd said thatfartoo quickly, with too much force. With too much of that cutting tone of mine.
Boone didn't look offended, had no reason to, I supposed -- it wasn't like I was talking bad about his recently deceased wife, but guilt socked me in the stomach like a Supermutant wearing a power-fist.
"I'm nottryin'to sound like an ass, by the way. But..."
I sighed deeply, scrunching my brow in regret of how I'd said it.
"But me 'n Bennyain'tyou 'n Carla." I repeated. "We ain't- we ain'tinlove.We're just two assholes sleepin' with each other. Sothat'swhy it's different. I don't know if bein'morestraightforward would make this any simpler."
"Maybe itwould,maybe itwouldn't."Boone shrugged his shoulders. "You won't know 'til you do it."
The mere thought of it, of actually heading back to confront Benny about the events that had transpired outside of Gomorrah earlier that day, it made my heartbeat thud inside my chest a hundred miles a minute. Made the adrenaline sweep through my veins, send a clammy, quaking heat to my palms.
If I kept thinking about it, I'd get no sleep. I'd spent the rest of the night exhausted and miserable and cranky, unable to focus and keep my mind on the matters at hand, which remained to be the issues around Camp McCarran, chasing the goal of securing a deal with the NCR by making Hsu look better. I'd have to head off to Hoover Dam at some point, have to get some meeting organized with Moore, but in the meanwhile, I'd be in Vegas. And if I was in Vegas, I'd have to confront Benny again, get my red bandanna back.
But confronting him meanttalking,and the thought ofthatmade me more anxious than I wanted to admit to anybody.
I had to think about something else.
Anythingelse.
Anything to get my mind off that feeling.
"What was she like?"
I peered up towards Boone curiously, turning onto my side to face towards him from my position on the cold cell floor.
He froze in place for a second, until he realized I was talking about Carla, then his eyes seemed all...clouded.Thoughtful. Deep and serious, enough that it pressed his lips into a thin line and the weight caught on his chest, in his lungs.
He looked like he was remembering her, and I think it hurt him that she was someone he nowhadto remember.
"We ain't really talked 'bout her all that much." I went on. "We don'thave toif 'ya don't wanna, though. 'Ya know I'd be thelastperson to push 'ya into talkin' 'bout this."
Boone was silent.
I could see his eyes behind his tinted shades, narrowed in pensive thought, the twitch of his mouth as the words his brain tried to form eluded his grasp, or perhaps they stung too damn much to hold onto. The lump he gulped down in his throat that ached all the way deep into the pit of it, settled there like a stone turning rocks into boulders in his chest that made every breath a conscious effort.
I knew that feeling and I knew that feeling well. I wished I didn't have to know it, and I wished thathedidn't have to know it, either.
But wishes didn't take away from the harsh reality of it, as goddamn unfair as it was.
"She was..."
Boone's words caught in his throat, croaking out of his mouth. He didn't let it stop him, though.
"She talked like she was from another time, loud and chatty and lively. Always knew what to say, even when I didn't." He seemed to lose himself in talking about her. "She loved the city, all the lights and the music... I always thought she could never look as beautiful as she did, dancing to the music through the streets without a care, except she proved me wrong there... every damn day."
His voice carried a fondness for her memory, wrapping it up in cotton wool so as to keep it safe from the world that had been so cruel to her. Even in death, he carried her name with his voice so delicately that I was sure nothing could ever break her again. He wouldn't let it, not again -- not ever again, that much I was sure of.
It didn't matter that she had died and was nothing more than a memory, he loved her like she was alive, and in his mind, her memorywas.
"Makes me feel bad about dragging her all the way out to Novac after we got married." Boone scoffed, though softly and with regret marking his face.
He regarded the ceiling, a hand resting over his heart.
"BlameMannyfor that one."
The way he'd described her, Carla was the polar opposite of me, and in that strange way, I think I understood her, at least in some ways.
If she enjoyed the vibrant lights of the city, the wine-like atmosphere and the chattering crowds filling the streets, then Novac was a far cry from the life she was used to. Probably made her uncomfortable, in the same way that I preferred the wild and open expanse of the Mojave desert, the rugged bushes and hills and the long, winding roads baked beneath the hot sun.
So far, being in New Vegas had felt like getting dunked in ice cold water -- a complete shock to the system and so far from all I was used to that I wondered how folks ever got anything done with so many people around, no space to swing their arms without hitting someone else.
I could admit, the lights were pretty and I was damn sure I'd never seen buildings so tall or a road's surface so completely void of any recollection of total atomic annihilation. And sure, the music blaring through the streets could give me one hell of a headache, but it wasn't awful -- I actually liked the music, or the style of it, at least. Besides that, I'd have to say I felt more comfortable out in the open desert expanse, or walking the roads, even if my suite had its perks and exploring casinos had started to grow interesting.
I could never stay, not permanently. Ironically, being back at the shack south of Novac bordered by two known Deathclaw nests was actually safer than most folks knew. But even then, I needed to wander -- craved it like chems and felt antsy if I spent too long without hitting the roads.
If I'd been in Carla's situation -- got myself married and tied down to one place that was the opposite of all I'd ever felt comfortable with -- I wasn't sure I'd be able to take it. Not that IblamedBoone for taking her out there, I was sure he had his reasons, but I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to do the same.
Perhaps she settled for love and love had made it easier, I didn't know.
One thing was for damn sure though: in the unlikely event I ever found someone who could put up with all of my bullsh*t and wanted to put a ring on my finger, I could never be tied down to one place forever. And if my hypothetical future wife or husband ever tried to make me stay despite my instance otherwise, there'd be nothing strong enough in the world to keep me there.
I had to be on the roads, at least every so often. I just had to. And I knew most folks could never settle for that, nor could they ever settle for someone like me, so marriage and romance as I never knew it was completely out of the question.
My momma had been right:I'd never settle.
Boone stuffed his hand deep inside the front pocket of his khaki pants, rummaging about in there with an intense look on his face.
Admittedly, at a first glance, I was extremely concerned that he was sticking his hand down his pants to pleasure himself like there were no boundaries to our friendship.
I blinked, ensuring my eyes were correct and that hewasn'tabout to demonstrate the accuracy of his shot with anything besides a rifle, and once that momentary panic was out of the way, I noticed that he'd lifted from his pocket a small Polaroid.
"Here."
Boone leaned off the edge of the bed, carefully passing the Polaroid to me. I took it in my hands as gently as I could, petrified that one small rip might just cause him to beat my f*cking head in against the ground.
"That'sher."Boone stared fondly down at the photograph in my hands."That'smy Carla."
In the photograph, the streets of New Vegas lit up a backdrop of faded, multicolored neon flashes, and in the center, right in the middle of the street with a crowd parted just for her, was a slender-looking woman in a swinging, red-white polka-dot dress, curving in a heart-shape over her neckline. She looked to be in her twenties, just like myself and Boone. Caught mid-dance, mid-twirl, her eyes had met the photographer with a liveliness about them that matched the warm, friendly, and ecstatic smile stretching across her ruby-red lips.
Her coal-black hair was short, styled in rolling curls that seemed to bounce, even while frozen in time, and the Vegas lights shining down on her tanned skin gave her an almost ethereal glow. It looked like she, herself, was glowing. Around her, frozen in time in the backdrop of the streets outside of The Tops, some heads were even turned to her, forever caught-out in their admiration of her beauty.
"Holysh*t..."I whispered, staring at the picture in awe, and suddenly I began to worry that my hands might be dirty. "Boone, she'sgorgeous."
I quickly handed the Polaroid back to him, so as not to contaminate it with my touch any longer.
I glanced down at my hands, seeming to be clean for the most part, if the small flecks of dried blood flicked across the back of my palms didn't count.Theyhadn't touched the picture, those parts of my skin, but I still worried nonetheless.
Didn't want to taint the only picture he had of her.
"She is, she-"
'Was,'he was about to say.
But he didn't.
'Shewas,'and yet, he gazed down at that photograph he'd kept with him as lovingly as he would looking into her eyes if she were there in the flesh and right in front of him. It didn't matter that the picture was all he had left to remind himself of what her face looked like when it would someday fade from his memory.
That picture reminded him that even death couldn't snatch away her beauty, that all the cruelty leading up to her death didn't scar her image in the slightest.
To him, her beauty was ever-present.
No Legionary could ever take that away.
Between us, there was silence. Boone's heavy sigh momentarily flooded the small space of that dingy little holding cell, the picture resting between his fingers and his eyes remaining settled upon it, upon her, like he couldn't bare to look away and yet the knowledge that she was no longer there with him made him ache. I could see it in his face, that ache.
He slipped the picture back into the pocket of his khaki pants, for safekeeping, and rested on his back yet again, staring plainly up at the ceiling.
I wondered if I should say something, or let us lay there in silence a while longer.
I wasn't much good at saying things, I thought, and I didn't want anything I managed to get out to come off as pitiful towards Boone. We both hated that. I knew that.
I thought, maybe, changing the topic might be a better idea, just to break the silence and set us off talking about something else before we managed to drift off to sleep for a power-nap.
I opened my mouth, not even sure what I was going to say.
Just as unknown words of some still-undecided conversation piece crept to the tip of my tongue, Boone opened his mouth to speak, and I immediately shut mine.
"We were gonna name our baby'Charlie.'"
I stared at him up on his perch on the bed. He remained there, lying flat on his back on the mattress.
"Worked for a boy or a girl, and Carla said we should stick to 'C's: she was Carla and I was Craig, so our baby should've had a name starting with a 'C,' too. Made us our own little team..."
I noticed a small but pained grimace cross his face as he spoke, and wondered if he wanted to stop talking but couldn't. I wouldn't deter him, though.
"I wanted to name the baby afterherinitially, but she wouldn't have it. I always said ifIdied first, she'dhaveto."
"That's a dirty way to win an argument." I managed a little smile, enough to let him know that I wasn't trying to come across as harsh.
"Yeah, well, Icanbe petty when I try to be." Boone matched my smile, even if just for a few fleeting moments before it ebbed away from his face. "I started to like the name'Charlie,'though. I really did."
I'd only ever seen Boone being petty when he continuously referred to Benny as'Benjamin,'silently reveling in that disgruntled sneer that Benny got on his face and the way he'd attempt to snap back with Boone's name in an attempt to match it.
But I could imagine him saying it to Carla -- the same way he'd probably try to win the'I love you more'argument that I'd seen a lot of couples have.
"I've been counting the days, the weeks, since it happened." Boone continued. "She would've been due any day now, and we would've been sitting outside that motel with our baby watching life go by. And I'd always like to think I would've been a good dad, if..."
And then he paused, like he had to catch himself.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded sullen.
"'If...'"
Boone sighed regrettably, like he was scolding himself silently for nearly falling for the trap of leaning into all the hypotheticals he'd told me not to worry about.
"We'll get your little girl back, Nevada."
I felt a pang in my gut, gulped down the sharp lump in my throat and stared up at the ceiling in hopes that heavy feeling would go away before it could resurface again.
"In the meanwhile, just... don't forget about the people around you. They might not be here forever, and we both know we're not promised tomorrow."
His voice softened, low and gravelly as it was, but sincere.
"Give him an answer, whatever you can manage."
"It's the sayin' stuff that's hard." I groaned softly. "I think I'm better atthreatenin'people than I amtalkin'to 'em."
"All he asked is whether you care about him, so that's all you need to say." Boone assured me, though I wasn't so sure it was all as easy as he seemed to think. "Nothing more, nothing less, but don't say nothingat all."
I suppose it depended on whether a headbutt counted as sayingsomethingor sayingnothing.
I didn't know which it was.
"I thought that'cha didn't like him."
I looked back up towards Boone, raising an eyebrow and raking my hand back through my red hair in an attempt to untangle some of the knots that my curls often got themselves into.
"Why are 'ya agreein' with whathewants?"
I'd thought, honestly, if Boone was petty enough, he'd tell me to do the complete opposite of what Benny wanted. I'd thought he would'a told me to give Benny a well-placed kick between the legs and spit on him afterwards.
In regards to spitting on Benny, I'd only done it once. Into his mouth. Because he asked me to. Actually,'asked'was amildterm for it: he'd begged, pleaded for me to do it, while I was in the middle of giving him the ride of his f*cking life.
And helikedit.
But, y'know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, and I was a decent ways outside of those big walls now, so the activities of the bedroom could remain behind them while I was away sorting out issues in a military base in order to secure a deal between House and the NCR.
"Idon'tlike him." Boone insisted with a frown. "I think he's totally full of himself, arrogant,incrediblystupid, sleazy, and I think he's a piece ofsh*tfor what he did to you."
Then he shrugged, looking down from the edge of the bed towards me, lying on my back on the floor.
"Doesn't matter whatIthink, though:you'rethe one who's sleeping with him and putting your life on the line for him." He said. "It clearly bothersyou."
I grumbled out a huff of air, scrunching my nose. I didn't like that the whole damn thing was bothering me. Hated that I kept thinking about it when I didn't want to -- when I knew I had higher priorities elsewhere then questions asked by some stubborn bastard in a checkered suit.
I hated that I feltguiltyabout giving him a bloody nose.
The guy had shot me in the head, had the Khans bury me in a shallow grave, andIwas getting all goddamn caught up on how I'd busted his f*cking nose when he'd relentlessly interrogated me as to whether I cared for him or not.
I'd killedbetterfolks forlessthan that.
I remained silent, caught up in glaring at the ceiling in a silent vent of my frustrations at the mere thought of how much it was bothering me. Boone must have picked up on it. I felt his eyes on me, watching me intensely.
"He's gonna say it,"I thought to myself, and hoped it didn't register on my face that I knew exactly the words that would leave Boone's mouth next."I know he's gonna say it. Any second now, he's gonna ask me if-"
"Youdocare about him, don't you, Nevada?"
I made the mistake of meeting his eyes when those words left his mouth.
I looked back up at the ceiling, expelling a heavy, guilty sigh.
There was no point in lying to him -- he'd call me out on my bullsh*t in one second flat, and I figured his asking was more of a formality, more of a confirmation of something he was already ninety-nine percent certain of, and my answer would fill in that final, damning one percent.
"It'd be so much simpler if Ididn't."
Boone hummed lightly, nodding his head, and slumped back, nestling his head back into the comfort of the pillow under it. My head laid back against the cold tiled floor beneath the fabric of my duster.
Once again, the silence between us flooded the room, yet we let it linger there this time, eyelids made heavy by all the fatigue of the day.
I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping to sink myself into a comforting darkness without a thought or a worry or a nightmare, even if just for a short time. I actually hoped I'd die in my sleep, and then I wouldn't have to think anymore.
Perhaps that was selfish, considering that Virginia was still out there waiting for me to come and get her, but I couldn't get the thought out of my mind.
I was just tired.
I wassogoddamntired.
The final thought that slipped through my mind before my consciousness switched off and allowed me what I hoped would be a few hours of peace:
"What thehellhave I gotten myself into?"
