CHAPTER SIX: BOOM BOOM
Two weeks earlier
“So, we’re just gonna march in there and put a bullet in his skull?”
The Courier glanced over at Boone, a confident smile adorning his face as they both watched the entrance to the Legion’s Fort. “Well, yeah, we are.” He frowned at his friend’s skeptical look. “What? It’s a plan.”
“Doesn't sound like much of a plan to me,” he replied flatly.
“It is totally a plan,” he defended. “Well, mostly. ‘Bout twelve percent of one, at least.” He gave a shrug and went back to spying down at the fort beneath them through the binoculars in his hand. The cocky smile on his face soon narrowed into a calculating grimace as he studied the forces below him.
Similarly, Boone watched the Legion troops in the fort through the scope of his rifle. “So, what does the twelve percent of this plan of yours involve?” He cast a sideways glance towards him for a second, before looking through the scope once again.
“That piece of shit Inculta gave me this back when I was on the Strip." He held up something to Boone; what seemed to be an ordinary Legion Denarius coin hung from a lanyard. "Said it was the 'Mark of Caesar' or some shit, and that I was invited for an audience with him."
He looked at him, suddenly growing suspicious. "And why the hell would that bastard want an audience with you?"
"Christ if I know. Guess they knew about the platinum chip." He groaned and gritted his teeth. "Speaking of which, that slimy fuck Benny still has it. With any luck they tied him up on a cross somewhere in there."
Boone shrugged. "Yeah, well he's your business. I'm gonna be too busy keeping score I'm afraid." He took the time to check the bullets in his pouches and bandolier, carefully counting each one inside.
"Well, we ain't gonna get anything done sitting up here, now are we?" He stowed the binoculars back into his satchel bag and cracked his knuckles, taking a deep breath. He stood up and adjusted the holsters on his leg and across his back. "You ready?"
Boone raised his eyebrow. "I still don't know what we're even doing. When can I start shooting these assholes?"
"If all goes to plan, they should start escorting me up there." He pointed his finger towards a large, lavish tent at the top of the hill. "When we start going up the hill, you're free to start shooting bad guys."
He glanced back at the raft they had used to move up river from Cottonwood Cove. "One last thing. Won't they be expecting the guy guarding the raft to show up with you?"
The Courier rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Nah, I'll just make bullshit excuse about how he had to go back. Hopefully they haven't received word of the cove's sudden increase in radioactivity, or the mysterious deaths of everybody stationed there." He chuckled at his own joke, before nodding to his friend and setting off down the hill.
Well, this is gonna get us both killed. Boone watched his friend through the scope of his rifle as he approached the gates of Caesar's fort. Ah, fuck it. Let's just do it.
As he approached the fort, The Courier tipped back his hat to look up at the soldiers above the gate, who had their rifles trained intently on him.
"What is your business in Caesar's territory, profligate?" one barked at him, pulling back the bolt on his rifle. "Answer, or face death!"
He pulled the coin out of his pocket and held it up by the lanyard. "I carry the mark of Caesar!" he called out in reply. "He has requested an audience with me!"
One of the guards glanced towards the other, his questioning look hidden behind a pair of goggles and a face mask. The other seemed to think for a second. "Where is Cursor Lucullus?" he asked, still keeping him in his sights.
All over Cottonwood Cove. He repressed a smirk and instead answered, "He had important business back at Cottonwood Cove. He has already left back down the river."
The soldiers seemed to buy his lie, if their nods and lowered weapons were anything to go by. The gate before him was lifted by some sort of pulley system, allowing him entrance. He suddenly found the scrutinising eyes of every legionnaire upon him as he stepped inside. One of them approached him, and he resisted the urge to reach for the Sequoia strapped to his leg. This guy must be my escort. Guess he's getting his head blown off first.
The legionnaire's eyes ran up and down the new arrival, judging his every move and mannerism. The Courier looked around awkwardly, before clearing his throat.
"You ain't eyeing me up, are ya, pal?" he joked. "I don't swing that way, I'm afraid."
He didn't dignify the comment with a response. Instead, he inspected the long duster coat that he wore, before turning towards him to speak. "Those who wear the flag of the bear in Caesar's territory typically become corpses within a matter of moments. However, Caesar has requested your audience, and I am not one to disobey. Follow me."
Well, that was fuckin' easy. He nodded and gestured for the soldier to lead on. "Alright then. Lead the way, pal." He cast a discreet glance towards the hill overlooking the fort, and noticed the telltale glint of sunlight reflecting off of his friend's scope. Not just yet, Boone.
"The mark you carry is an exceptional gift," the soldier called back to him, heading towards the hill leading towards the main section of the fort. "Caesar must believe that you can be of great use to his Legion, especially if you represent the New California Republic."
He shrugged, glancing around. "Guess I'm just interested in seeing Caesar's view on this whole conflict," he lied. Okay, here goes nothing. He looked up towards Boone and gave a small but noticeable nod. His hand hovered towards the revolver on his hip as he waited for the first shot.
In the next few seconds, the soldier in front of him suddenly had the side of his head blown open, and he tumbled lifelessly to the ground. In an instant, he had pulled the gun from his holster and had it pointed at another, confused soldier slightly further up the hill. The first bullet left the barrel of his gun, and soon found itself embedded in his head. Chaos erupted all around him; Legion soldiers were running too and fro, diving to take cover from the sniper on the hill. Some did not even notice as The Courier shot dead any who dared to fire either at him or his friend on the hill.
Even as one soldier turned to raise his rifle towards him, Boone shot him dead. There were only two of them left now, with one of them about to fire on him. Without even thinking, The Courier dived to the side towards cover, firing off the last few bullets left in his gun as he did. Miraculously, one of them caught the legionnaire in the shoulder. The both of them were quickly dispatched by Boone as his friend scrambled behind cover.
Well, shit, we’re in the thick of it now. He nodded towards his friend on the hill, who nodded in return and quickly ran down to back him up. Thankful for the quick break in the action, he loaded some more rounds into his Sequoia, listening out for the shouts and battle cries of the legion soldiers as they rushed to investigate the commotion. “Alright you sons of bitches,” he muttered as Boone crouched down next to him, pulling back the bolt on his rifle.
"Guess they know we're both here know," Boone muttered, wiping dirt away from his forehead. "Move up to the tents, I've got you covered."
He nodded and moved forward up the hill as he followed some distance behind. He had only just managed to pull his rifle from the scabbard on his back when three more soldiers came rushing towards them. He shot the first two while Boone took care of the one in the back, who clutched at the wound in his chest as he tumbled down the cliffside.
"Tents ain't much good for cover," he warned the sniper. "Check your corners, and make a beeline for Caesar's fuckin' palace up there." He pointed towards the large, lavish tent that towered above the rest in the middle of the camp.
"From what I hear it's mostly slaves around here. The praetorian guards inside will be the real problem."
He nodded as they moved forward, approaching the bigger tent. "Slaves shouldn't be too much of a problem. Hell, we'll free 'em if we can. Let's just hope we don't have to deal with any Stockholm Syndrome bullshit."
They were interrupted as a bullet tore through the cloth of a tent beside them. In an instant The Courier whipped round, firing a shot straight between his attacker's eyes. There was an audible 'ping' as the empty clip ejected from the rifle. Noticing that there were still two soldiers on him, and that Boone was busy with his own, he dropped the rifle into one hand and drew his revolver, ducking down and shooting them both dead.
"Come on Boone, let's move it!" he barked as his friend finished off their pursuers. He managed to fumble another clip into his rifle as they ran towards the tent, though, thankfully, they were left unopposed. As they approached the entrance, he put his hand out to stop the sniper.
"Hold up. There will definitely be some of those assholes waiting for us," he whispered. "Luckily they left us a parting gift." With a smirk he reached down and plucked an assault carbine from the dead hands of a soldier that Boone had shot previously. He held it at the hip and held down the trigger, spraying the remaining bullets left inside through the tent. The resulting screams from inside indicated he had been somewhat successful in his endeavour.
"Heh, fuckin' morons." He threw the rifle to the side and drew his Sequoia once more. With one hand on the flap of the tent, he nodded towards Boone, who nodded in return. Alright, let's do this. For them both, time seemed to slow down as they burst inside the tent, weapons raised against the Praetorian Guards who rushed to greet them with ballistic fists at the ready. They let loose a hail of bullets, felling every one of the Legion soldiers with a well placed shot. Even Caesar himself stepped forward from his throne, ready to fight them both. He was staggered as the body of a guard who had put himself in the line of fire fell back onto him, and was sent crumpling to the ground as The Courier put a bullet through his knee.
Satisfied that everyone inside the tent had been taken care of, The Courier reached inside his pocket and pulled out the marked coin. "Hey, buddy. I got your invitation." He put the coin between his knuckles and threw a heavy punch at the man on the floor, knocking out one of his teeth.
"Argh!" Caesar cried out in pain, spitting out blood. "Fucking profligate!"
"Brave words from a scumbag about to die.' He punched him again.
Caesar glared back up at him. "I suppose you want some sort of grand, final speech from me, don't you?"
He put his hand under his chin in mock thought. "Hmm, let me think for a sec." When he looked back at Boone, all he received was an indifferent shrug. "Nah, fuck that. We're just gonna kill you."
Fucking finally. Boone raised his rifle, pushing against his head. The Courier, however, put his hand on the barrel and lowered it. "What?"
"Hold up a sec." He knelt down and pulled out a combat knife that was strapped to his boot. Casting a scornful glare towards the injured tyrant, he handed it to Boone. "Take this. For a little... historical propriety."
"You're smarter than you look, pal."
"Thanks. I think." An injured groan from the corner of the room caught The Courier's attention. He decided to investigate as one of Caesar's insults was cut short by his friend shoving the knife into his chest. Here's the slimy little scumbag.
The beaten, battered man in a dirty checkered suit in the corner of the desk looked up as he approached. "Hey," he managed to say, coughing in pain slightly. "You certainly gave those Praetorian bums the big send-off, baby."
"You ain't looking so good, pal." He practically spat the words out. "Oh, and don't flatter yourself. This wasn't some rescue mission."
Benny rolled his eyes. "Shoulda figured. But, seeing as you're here, you are gonna let me go anyway, right?"
There was a pause as he thought for a second. "I don't know. You did kinda shoot me in the head and leave me for dead. Still got the chip?"
"This asshole's got it," Boone called out, pulling the poker chip from one of Caesar's pockets. "Or rather, had it." He looked down into his lifeless eyes and muttered, "Thumbs down, you son of a bitch," before throwing it to his friend.
There was an air of desperation in Benny's voice as The Courier stood up to leave. "Hey, come on, baby. Don't leave me here."
"And why the hell should I let you go, huh?" He turned around to glare at him again.
"You let me loose of these binds and you'll never see me again, pal. I'll be a goddamn ghost." He became more desperate as he didn't receive a response. "Come on, when these wackjobs find out what happened here they'll tie me to a cross for sure."
There was a long pause, as he looked up at The Courier before him. After what seemed like forever, he turned around, with an annoyed, defeated look on his face. "Oh, for the love of God, fine." He kneeled down behind him, and started to untie his bindings. "But you gotta promise me that I'll never see your fucking face ever again."
"Don't you worry, baby." He flashed the annoying, cocky grin that The Courier knew him for. "I never go back on a promise."
***
"You never go back on promises, huh?" Christina eyed the man on the table across from her warily. "Yeah, you're a real trustworthy gentleman."
She and The Courier sat across the table from Benny, who had been acting affable and subsequently bought them drinks. His trademark cocky smile hadn't left his face once, even as her friend told her the story of their last meeting. "What can I say? The Tops was calling out to me, I had to return."
"Like hell you did," The Courier spat, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the beer bottle in his hand out of anger. Christina swore she saw a few visible cracks appear in the glass. "Swank's been doin' a better job then you ever did. I mean, hell, ever since he took over I reckon there's been one hundred percent less stuck-up guido wannabees with no fuckin' fashion sense."
He ignored the last comment and simply shrugged. "Swank? Yeah, the guy's pretty good, I guess. But come on, look at me. I'm the real deal." His attention suddenly turned to Christina, and he attempted to put on a charming smile. "So, who's your lady friend here?"
"Name's Christina," she answered calmly. "But don't bother trying to remember it, since I doubt we're going to be sticking around with you much longer." She took a quiet sip from her own drink, eyeing him suspiciously.
The Chairman leaned back and put his hand on his chest in mock shock. "Oh, baby, I'm wounded. What, you'd rather stick around with this guy?" He looked over at The Courier, who glared back. "No offense, but I doubt he'd even remember your name. Or anything, for that matter, on account of the whole... well, you know." He tapped his forehead.
"I remembered the face of the slimy scumbag who put two bullets in my head, didn't I?" he growled in reply, before taking a swig of his bottle in an attempt to calm himself. "I shoulda returned the goddamn favour back in that tent, you piece of shit."
He took one final sip of his own drink and stood up. "Well, as inviting as that sounds, I'm afraid you ain't gonna get the chance." He gestured to a number of armed guards around the room. "See, if you even so much as sneeze on me, these fellas are gonna turn you into mincemeat. This is my casino again, baby, understand?"
Christina put a hand on her friend's arm as he fumed with anger. "Hey, look, maybe we should just leave. Leave this idiot to his own devices." She stood up swiftly, tugging at him slightly. "Come on, Courier. It's not worth the trouble. We've got more important things to be worrying about, remember?"
After a few seconds, he sighed and relented. "Yeah... yeah, you're right." He slowly stood up, not once taking his eye away from the man across the table from him. "But, mark my words, pal. You ever try to pull any of your crap again, or tie up loose ends, or whatever, then I will end you." He slammed his hands on the table in a sudden outburst of anger. "You get me? I'll put you in the goddamn ground."
Benny's response was to simply roll his eyes. "Uh huh. Run along now, buddy. I hope you and your girlfriend have a... nice evening."
"She's not my fucking girlfriend," he moaned, glaring at him one last time before heading towards the door of the restaurant. Christina shot one last wary glance at the Chairmen around her, before following quickly after him, sighing in frustration. So much for a fun night out in Vegas, huh?
He had stormed out quickly, however, and was now on the other side of the casino, fuming. She went to move closer to him, but found a rough pair of hands clamp down on her shoulders. Alarmed, she turned around to see a huge Chairman thug glaring down at her.
"Ma'am, we have reason to believe you've been cheating at our tables," he grunted. "Please come with us." He nodded to two similar men behind him. Confused, she looked over towards The Courier, who was surrounded by a similar group of apes.
What in God's name? "I haven't even played at the tables," she told them as politely as she could. "You must be mistaking me for someone else."
Her attempt to defuse the situation calmly did not work, however, as he simply grunted, "No mistake. Come with us, now." He started to forcefully push her towards a door marked 'employees only'. The sound of shouting from across the room reached her ears, and she turned to see her friend fighting his aggressors hand to hand. Before she was bundled through the door she saw him knock one to the ground, and managed to shout out, "Hey!"
This Benny guy is a real goddamn asshole, she thought, kicking back at the guard behind her. There was obviously more to this than 'cheating at the tables' after all. The three of them were much bigger and burlier than she was, but she managed to deal some damage, aiming her kicks and jabs low, towards the most sensitive parts. While one crumpled to the floor, doubled over in pain, another grabbed her by the neck and shoved her up against the wall.
"You little bitch," he growled, pulling back a fist to hit her. He never got a chance to swing, however, as a loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he fell over dead. She turned to see The Courier wielding the gun he had shown her earlier. All of the guards that had been escorting her lay dead on the floor, their own blood pooling around them.
He helped her up and she fell onto her knees. "You okay?" She nodded and he seemed to let out a sigh of relief before continuing. "That fuckin' rat asshole. I knew I should have killed him before." The sound of shouts and screams from the main casino made him turn his head. "Come on, we have got to get out of here. That bastard'll get what's coming to him one day, mark my words." He looked at the bodies around them. "One of these scumbags should have a gun, if you wanna take it. Not sure if we're gonna have a fight on our hands or not."
After coughing a few times and getting air back into her lungs, she nodded. "Well, better to have one and not need it, than need one and not have it." She searched the bodies of the guards, and pulled out a nine millimeter pistol. She checked the magazine and made sure there was a round chambered, before looking up at him. "Okay, let's go."
Before they could set off, a Chairman guard burst through the door, gun raised. In an instant, The Courier turned around, dodging the stray bullet that was fired, and ran towards him. He drove his knee up into the man's gut before bringing the butt of his gun down onto the back of his head. As he doubled over in pain, he lowered the barrel of his own gun to the top of his head and pulled the trigger.
Poking his head through the door, he noticed several NCR MP's bursting inside, telling everybody to drop their weapons. Hoping to use the distraction to sneak out undetected, he motioned for Christina to stick close before slowly edging out of the door into the main room. They both crept along, sticking to the wall, praying that nobody's gaze would pass over them.
Fate would prove, however, that they would not be that lucky. As they both neared a back door to the casino itself, they bumped straight into one of the Military Police units, who pointed his rifle at them both. "Drop the weapons, now!" he ordered. "Get on your knees, hands behind your head. You're both under arrest."
Christina muttered something under her breath, before chucking her handgun to the side and complying. The Courier growled, sighed in frustration, and did the same. As the MP moved to handcuff him, he swore under his breath.
"Ah, fuck me."
***
There's more than two of them? What in Celestia's name... Does that mean more are going to show up?
Flash's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden draft of icy wind. Shivering, he nonetheless kept onward, matching the pace of Shining Armor beside him. He had always hated going out on patrols in the frozen tundras. The icy winds and biting cold air always made him painfully cold, down to his bones. Deciding to try and take his mind off the discomfort, he looked up at the prince to his right. "So, what is it that he told you, exactly?"
The unicorn looked down at him, his face obscured by a black scarf and a pair of goggles. He may look like some ridiculous action hero, but at least it keeps him warm. "He told me another one of his kind came here with him, though not by choice. An enemy, that he subsequently killed. Hopefully the corpse hasn't been covered by a fresh blanket of snow yet."
"He killed it?" He seemed surprised. "Does he seem remorseful?"
"Not really." He paused as they continued trudging through the endless snow. "In fact, he didn't seem so in the slightest. When he told me about it, he seemed to even take pride on it."
Flash cast a glance towards the human, who was leading the group of soldiers, wrapped up warm in a long cloak. "Whoever it was, I guess they really didn't get along."
Shining chuckled. "Yeah, I'll say. Maybe he was in some sort of war with a rival soldier? There's some questions that we're gonna have to ask him."
"Damn right." The group continued on for quite a while, travelling behind a mountain that hid the Crystal Empire itself from view. Shining Armor ordered everypony to spread out and search. It was not long before one of the recruits was yelling out to everyone else, saying that he had found something poking out of the snow and the ice.
Sure enough, as the rest moved to investigate, they found a frozen arm poking out. Boone turned to Shining and Flash. "Here he is. One of Caesar's boys." The name didn't mean anything to them, but they both supposed that he would gladly tell them if they asked. That could wait for later, however. They both looked on with curiosity as he crouched down and grabbed the protruding limb. With a grunt, he pulled and heaved, pulling the frozen body out of the snow. A few of the soldiers around him looked visibly repulsed as they laid eyes upon it.
Shining Armor came forward, inspecting the corpse as it lay there. Using his magic, he pulled out the machete that was still sheathed on the soldier's back, taking a look at it before Boone plucked it from his magical grasp. "Well, this guy won't be needing it anymore," he muttered to himself, wiping some blood off the blade with his cloak before lowering it. "Take a look at it, if you want."
"Why'd you kill this guy?" Flash asked the question on everypony's mind, stepping forward.
"'Cause I was on one side of a war and he was on the other. The wrong side, just ask anyone." He looked down at the corpse with contempt. "He and his buddies attacked the caravan I was escorting with my friend. He used some sort of device, and the three of us ended up out here. There's nothing else to say."
Shining turned to his men. "Carry it back to the castle, and get some of the coroners to look at it." The soldiers nodded and began unwrapping a cloth to conceal the body. "No doubt the biological information we can get from him will be very interesting. And certainly better than cutting up you and your friend, huh?" He looked at Boone, chuckling at his own joke. He didn't get a response.
As the soldiers began to pick up the body, Boone's mind began to wander. Huh, I wander what Moira's up to right now.
***
"Your friend sounds like quite the hero, Miss Brown."
Moira chuckled and took another sip of tea, smiling at the soft pink alicorn sat across from her. "Please, call me Moira! And yeah, she really is. Not that my book didn't help a lot of people too!"
Cadance smiled in return. "Heh, indeed. I must say, to live in a world that is as dark as you describe and still find the willpower to be kind and helpful to those you come across is quite a heartwarming thing. Even going out of your way to write a book dedicated to helping those less fortunate, or less skilled."
"Why, thank you!" The shopkeeper beamed. "Like my mom always used to say, if you can make at least one person happy, then that day is a good day."
Another quiet chuckle escaped the princess' lips. "You should meet one of Twilight Sparkle's friends," she told her. "I think the both of you would get along quite well."
Moira's mood became somewhat sombre all of a sudden. "Still, I miss her. Like, a lot. I hope she's out there somewhere, looking for a way to get here too."
"She sounds like a true, true friend," she said reassuringly. "I have no doubt that she is doing everything within her power to find you. And should she, then we'll welcome her with open hooves as well."
A thankful smile spread across the human's face. "Thanks, princess. That helps. You're right, too. Nothing can get in Christina's way." With a gasp, as though she had thought of something suddenly, she sat up. "Ooh! Do you mind if I ask some questions as well?"
Cadance smiled. "Not at all. Please, go ahead."
With a giddy smile, she pulled a notepad from her pocket. "Oh, this is gonna be golden material for my next book!" She grabbed a pen and started scribbling notes.
As the numerous, excited questions began, the princess simply chuckled and rolled her eyes.