New Vegas: Sheason's Story - Chapter 145: Freeside Firefight

“Thanks again,” I said, locking the metal box which held the anti-plant virus bomb. Keely just shook her head and waved me off.

“Don’t mention it,” she growled. “The last thing any of us wants is an outbreak of those fungal spores on the surface…” While she spoke, she adjusted the collar on her labcoat. Apparently, both she and Williams had taken over the OSI offices in Camp McCarran – at least, for the time being. Hildern was nowhere to be seen. That said, Keely didn’t seem entirely comfortable in her labcoat. “So, where did this happen? Was it close to Vault 22? Do you think the strains are related?”

“Well…” I scratched the back of my head. “It’s… complicated. I’m pretty sure I ran into Patient Zero, to be honest…” Keely raised a hairless eyebrow, and I shrugged. “The place where it happened is pretty isolated. I don’t think we’re against the clock on this one…”

“But better safe than sorry,” she finished for me, and I nodded. She paused for a moment, tapping her chin and looking me up and down before finally continuing: “Alright, I’ve gotta ask… what’s with the metal hand?”

“It’s… uh…” I looked down at my exposed cybernetic and reflexively opened and closed my hand several times. “It’s a metal arm actually.”

Keely stared at me, unblinking, for several seconds.

“You serious?” She asked. I nodded. “What the fuck happened?”

“Would you believe business as usual?” I said with a shrug.

Again, Keely stared at me for several seconds.

“I’m tempted to say I don’t believe you, but that would be a lie. I mean, you’re The Courier. Shit not making sense around you makes a certain amount of sense.” She paused. “Sort of.”

“Thanks,” I gave her a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my neck. “… I think.”

“So, what’s your excuse for the boots?” She pointed down at the pair of rocket boots I was still wearing. “Is that business as usual, too?”

“Not exactly.” I’m not sure she picked up on my unwillingness to elaborate, because she just kept staring.

“Where did you even get those, anyway?” She asked, squatting down and leaning in close to get a better look. “Did you loot them from a set of power armor or something?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” I tried to be as non-committal as possible. I think it must’ve worked, because she stood back up, shook her head, and laughed.

“Alright, whatever. Keep your secrets. At least you’re keeping yourself busy.”

“Aren’t we all?” I shrugged. I was about to ask her what she’d been doing to keep herself occupied when suddenly I was interrupted by the sudden screeching halt of bad news flooding into my ears.

“Sheason!” Emily yelled over the radio, panic evident in her voice. “We’ve got a problem!”

“Speaking of, hold that thought, I’ve gotta take this.” I held up a hand in front of a suddenly confused Keely. I turned away and tapped the side of my helmet, to make sure the speaker was seated. “Emily? What’s –”

“It’s happening!” she said before I could finish. “It’s sooner than we expected!”

A knot formed in the pit of my gut.

“Slow down,” I said. “What’s going –” Again, I was cut off.

“Los Zorroz! They’re attacking The Kings!”

“Shit…” I growled under my breath. I turned back to Keely, grabbed the bomb, and started backtracking to the door. “Thanks for the bomb, but something incredibly urgent has come up, I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t mention it. Do what you’ve gotta do,” she nodded at me, shooing me out of her office. I turned on my heel and ran through the McCarran airport terminal to get back to where my car was parked.

“I’m on my way,” I said to Emily, carrying the box under my arm like a football. “How many are there?”

“All of them!” she practically shouted.

The knot in my gut got tighter.

“All of… all of who?” I asked, fairly certain I knew what was coming next.

“ALL of them! It’s not a skirmish – Los Zorroz are hitting The King’s headquarters! They’ve turned that whole intersection into a warzone!”

“Fuck!” I popped the trunk, secured the box, slammed the hood closed, and practically jumped into my car. “Alright Em, this is All Hands On Deck! Tell everyone to gear up and load up into the Deuce. I’ll meet them there.” My Corvega roared into life, and I peeled away from Camp McCarran leaving a trail of burnt rubber and smoke behind me. “I have a bad feeling we’re gonna need some medical help before this is all over… We’ve gotta get a message to Julie some-” I snapped my fingers. “Yes Man! You listening?”

“Hi there!” Yes Man’s cheery voice buzzed. “Of course I am! I’m always here for you, sir!”

“How many securitrons can you spare?” I asked, swerving around a wrecked car near the Vegas sign.

“How many do you need?”

I sped into Freeside, practically punching the horn over and over again to get people out of my way. Off in the distance, I could see a huge cloud smoke rising, and that was never a good sign. I rounded the last corner, tires squealing in pain, and I suddenly realized just how much Emily had NOT been exaggerating. In fact, calling it a war zone was probably too mild.

At that precise moment, the top floor corner of the The King’s place was hit by a rocket – fired from the roof of a building across the street – and the wall exploded in a shower of fire and rubble. The street was completely filled with people, all of them armed, and all of them shooting at one another. The Freeside sign across the street was in pieces. A few hastily constructed barricades had been set up outside the front of The King’s place, in a vain and pitiful attempt at defense. Several wrecked cars were being used as cover by both sides, and at least one of the wrecks was still on fire.

For about half a second, I wondered where the cars had come from – I couldn’t remember those wrecks being there before. Of course, that’s around the time most of the shooters wearing red noticed me, and bullets started ricocheting off my Corvega with loud pings. I knew the armor on my car would hold – just so long as they didn’t hit me with a 50 cal or rockets or anything – so I just put my foot down and aimed my car at a spot between The Kings and Los Zorroz.

“I hope you guys are close!” I yelled, unsure if they were even still on the radio or not, all while spinning the wheel and yanking on the handbrake. My car started skidding sideways, vomiting tire smoke and screeching loud enough to be heard over all the gunfire.

I didn’t even wait for the car to stop moving. I popped the door with one hand, grabbed my grapnel gun with the other, and leapt out of the car.

PKCHOONT!

I could hear the sound of bullets whizzing around my head as I flew threw the air, straight at a very surprised looking thug wearing a red bandanna around his mouth and carrying an old Chinese assault rifle. He didn’t look surprised for very long; my metal hand grabbed hold of his head, and he collapsed while I flipped around over him. My metal boots hit the ground with a clang, and I poured all of my inertia into the flailing sack of limbs in my grip.

“WAAUUGHHH!” he screamed incoherently, tumbling through the air, straight into another Los Zorroz thug, and both of them crashed into a nearby window and out of sight. I shrugged the Jury Rigger into my hands and spun around, slipping into VATS.

“What the fuck?! Who is that?” I heard somebody shout between LAER blasts.

“Who cares?! Shoot him!” Someone else yelled. I grabbed the grapnel still stuck to the wall, pulled it free, shouldered my rifle, and aimed the grapnel at the roof. A figure emerged over the side, and I could tell from the silhouette: it was the dude carrying the rocket launcher.

PKCHOONT!

I flew straight up, just as a rocket screamed past my head. An explosion buffeted the air behind me and just as I was about to reach the top, I felt a sudden surge of acceleration. The jets in my rocket boots had kicked in again. I still wasn’t entirely certain how I was activating them, but right now I wasn’t going to question it.

I reached the top and kept hold of the grapnel; the boots spun my legs around like I was stuck to a pinwheel. The rocket launcher dude was so busy trying to reload that he didn’t see me coming. He went flying straight off the roof with a yell, having been knocked off either by the metal-clad boot kicking him in the face, or because he was hit with rocket exhaust.

I detached the grapnel, twisted around, and planted my boots on the roof; the jets had turned off just as suddenly as they’d turned on. Two more red-clad thugs were on the roof, and I slipped back into the comfortable feeling of VATS.

“Get hi –” is all one of them managed to say before I shot them both with Roscoe. I broke into a run and passed them before either of them even hit the floor. I holstered Roscoe, shrugged the Jury Rigger back into my hands, and leapt off the roof. I started firing the LAER at every target I could find while I dropped like a rock back down to the street.

Right before I landed, the jets in my boots kicked in again. It slowed my descent just enough, and I started hovering a few feet above the street. I shifted my weight around, and I started spinning in midair, sending bright blue energy blasts in every direction. The jets cut out, and I landed with a heavy metal clang.

This lack of a proper plan seemed to be working, if nothing else. All the thugs wearing red had no idea who I was or what was going on, but they knew I was a threat. They were focusing on me, and that seemed to be causing just enough chaos to let The Kings regroup and reload.

“Sheason!” I heard Cass’ voice in my ear. “We’re on our way! Where are you?!”

“The fuck is taking you guys so long?!” I yelled, popping off a few more shots. The energy meter on the side of the rifle was blinking red; it was finally out and needed a few seconds to recharge. I tapped the side of my helmet with my cybernetic hand. “I’m keeping them busy for now, but one of them is bound to get –”

BANG!

I saw stars, and I collapsed in a heap against the ground. My ears were ringing like someone had shoved a metal bucket over my head and hit me with a sledgehammer. I wasn’t entirely certain which way was up.

“Augh, fuck me!” I said, even though I couldn’t hear myself. My vision stopped spinning. My cybernetic hand was right in front of me: a smashed and still smoking rifle bullet was lodged against the back of it. I didn’t wait for my head to clear properly before I pushed off against the ground and rolled; the ground where I’d been laying sparked with a ricochet. Finally I got a good look – there! A sniper was on the roof across the street! I pulled out the grapnel and aimed…

PKCHOONT!

Once again, I found myself flying through the air, moving too fast for them to even shoot. The red-clad sniper aiming at me backed up, with no idea what was happening. The grapnel drew me in, but it was the rocket boots kicking in that launched me over the edge. I grabbed the barrel of his rifle just as he fired – making him shoot wide – and just kept going. I did my best to ignore the massive ringing still going on in my ears, landed, spun around, and hit him in the back using the rifle like a club.

Off in the distance, I could see the Deuce barreling down Vegas Boulevard. I looked back down to the spot on the street I’d been shot, and saw the Jury Rigger laying there, discarded. I leapt off the roof, angling my feet so they aimed at the wall. The jets kicked in and propelled me right over the road. I reached down right before the jets turned off, snatched the rifle off the ground, and rolled, landing on my feet and looking for another target.

“Something’s coming!” I heard Veronica say; the ringing was starting to fade. The Deuce was parked right in front of The King’s place, and they were fanning out. It seemed like all those Los Zorroz mooks were dropping like flies… except for the pair armed with rifles that ran around the corner, straight at me.

“What’s coming?” I asked, trying to fire… but nothing. It was still out of charge.

I suddenly heard the sound of a roaring engine. It was getting louder and louder, and… Wait! I recognize that engine!

The two Los Zorroz thugs took aim… but before they got a chance, a blur of chromed metal rounded the corner. Before they knew what was happening, a machete had come out of nowhere, and the two thugs were deprived of their heads.

“RAUL!” I cheered, watching as the motorcycle skidded to a halt. The mustachioed ghoul grinned at me under his sombrero. The Jury Rigger beeped, and I took aim at a thug behind Raul trying to get a bead on him; he pulled a shotgun out of a holster on his chopper, and took aim at, presumably, a target behind me. The two of us fired at the same time.

“We havin’ fun yet, Boss?” he said with a laugh, revving his engine.

The next few minutes were pretty hectic, to be sure. But with everyone – even Raul – here, we made short work of things. The ground was littered with spent shells and dead bodies, and there were plenty of fires still burning… but the shooting had stopped, if nothing else. Several securitrons were rolling around the area, searching for civilians, trying to secure the area, and attempting to put out some of the bigger fires.

“So, you’re still keeping busy, I see,” Raul said as the two of us made our way to The King’s place. I nodded, surveying the carnage; the sign above the door was broken, and several of the letters were missing.

“You got here just in the nick of time. How’d you know to get here when you did?” I asked. Raul shrugged.

“I’ve been fighting these pendejo jerk-offs, just like you, Boss. The Ghost Vaquero has been beating them back, one block at a time. Besides,” he clapped me on the shoulder and laughed. “I heard the sound of gunfire and explosions, and just followed that. I figured you’d be in the middle of things, same as always.”

“Fair enough,” I nodded. “It’s good to see you again, man.” Suddenly, a bark caught my attention, and I turned in time to see Roxie bounding around the wreckage, headed straight for me. She still had a few scraps of bloody red cloth hanging out of her toothy maw.

“Hey girl!” I knelt down, giving Roxie a pat and trying to untangle the cloth from her teeth. “Here, let me help you out with that…”

“Well, well, well,” Cass walked up to the two of us, with her AA-12 resting against her shoulder. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Yeah,” Raul smiled broadly, with a mouth full of yellow teeth. “A red-headed irish gal with a shotgun.” The two of them started laughing, and I looked around. Boone was perched on top of the Deuce still keeping a lookout, Veronica was helping some of the securitrons clear away some of the bigger pieces of rubble, and Arcade had rushed into The King’s place to see to some of the wounded… but there was a noticeable absence.

“Hey, uh…” I stood up, still absentmindedly petting Roxie. “Where’s Stripe and Sasha? I would’ve thought this kind of fight was right up their alley.” Raul furrowed his brow and looked at me curiously.

“Stripe? Sasha? Who?” He scratched at the back of his scabby scalp, confused. Cass just started chuckling grimly.

“Hey, if you want to wake up a sleepin’ deathclaw, yer welcome to try, man,” Cass said, shaking her head. “But I sure as fuck ain’t gonna risk it!” Raul took a step back, looking incredulously at the two of us.

“A… sleeping… what?” He sighed, burying his face in his hand. “Damnit, Boss! What have you got yourself into this time?”

Before I got the chance to answer, a rumbling engine sounded off behind me. I turned around, and saw a large white van barreling down the street, swerving around the wreckage and slowing down as it got close to The King’s place. The Followers of the Apocalypse logo was painted on the side. The door on the side slid open, and several Followers doctors jumped out, carrying medical equipment and doctors bags.

“He’s in here!” Arcade yelled from the door. “Come quick!”

“Aw, hell,” a familiar southern drawl wafted out of the darkened interior. “Stop fussin’ over me, I’m fine!” The King emerged out of the darkness, looking a lot worse for wear. He was bleeding heavily from several wounds, he was covered in dirt, grime, and ash, and I’m pretty sure he was only standing because of the two men on either side of him holding him up. As the three of them stumbled forward, Rex emerged, trotting alongside and staring up at his master, whimpering. “See to my boys first. A lot of ’em are hurt worse than me!” Considering that the two guys helping him walk looked just as wounded as the King, I could believe that.

“Don’t worry,” one of the doctors said. “More help is on the way.”

The doctors got to work, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. For a while, I’d been worried my message hadn’t gotten to Julie and the other Followers. Speaking of which, I heard a wheel squeaking behind me. Sure enough, a securitron was approaching – but, surprisingly, it had Yes Man’s face.

“Hi there!” Yes Man said, his tone of voice making him seem oblivious to the carnage all around him. “I have some interesting news!”

“Yeah? What’s up?” Cass and Raul crowded around behind me, but Roxie had stopped nuzzling into my hand; she had trotted over to Rex and the King.

“A few of my securitrons have, well, secured some surviving gang members!” Yes Man proclaimed happily. “They were out of ammunition, so it was a trivial matter!”

“What, they just gave up?” Cass asked. Yes Man’s screen flickered.

“Sort of!” It was just as cheery as everything else he ever said, but somehow he was able to inject a terrifying undercurrent of menace into his words…

I peered into the room cautiously. A figure wearing a red shirt was hunched over and tied to a chair, while a securitron hovered around nearby with one of its gun arms trained on him. I turned to Cass and Raul.

“Well…” I said. “What do you think? He might be able to tell us something.”

“We could try the old good-cop, bad-cop routine on him, Boss,” Raul said. “Try and get some information out of him that way.”

“Personally, I prefer bad-cop, worse-cop,” Cass said, smashing her fist in her other palm. “So, we gonna put th’ squeeze on him, r’what?”

“Nah…” I said, tapping my chin. “Beating on somebody for info is useless. Hurt them enough, they’ll say anything just to get it to stop.”

“You sure?” Cass asked, confused. “That shit always works in the movies.”

“Yeah, and that’s the only place it works…” I tapped my chin, and smiled as an idea started forming. “But I think I might have a way to get him to talk.”

“Oh yeah?” Raul asked. “How’s that, Boss?”

“Psyche him out. All I have to do is tell him exactly who I am, and exactly what I can do. Let him know – in excruciating detail – exactly what he’s in for if he doesn’t cooperate.” I shrugged. “If I’m right, I won’t have to lay a finger on him.”

Turns out, I was right.

“Holy fuck, man…” Cass looked in the room after I finished. The thug was still shaking, still tied to the chair and sitting in a pool of his own piss. “What’d you say to him?” I shrugged.

“Not that much, to be honest. Just telling him I’m The Courier made him start to crack.”

“So what’d he tell you, Boss?” Raul asked, tipping his sombrero back. “Anything useful?”

“This attack on The Kings was a last-ditch effort, but they were still expecting to win. Their plan was to take out the King, level his place, and then regroup at Cerulean Robotics.”

“I think I know that place,” Raul said. “It’s an old factory, over near the train station, isn’t it?” I nodded.

“That’s what it sounded like. And that’s where The Boss is holed up – I think. He didn’t say for sure, one way or another, but that’s where they were gonna get new orders. I’ll bet you any money that’s where we’re gonna find that Boss. Whoever he is.”

Assuming the information is even good, I thought to myself.

“Man,” Raul whistled, shaking his head. “These Foxes sure are crafty, aren’t they?”

A knot started tugging in my gut again.

“Wait, what?” I asked. “Foxes? What foxes?”

“Los Zorros. The Foxes. I mean, yeah, they spell it with a z, but it’s still Spanish, Boss.” He stared at me curiously. “What, did you not know that?”

“No…” I said, my mind racing. “No I…”

An image flashed in my mind from… fuck, it felt like years ago. Back when we went to Cottonwood Cove. When I dressed up as a Legionnaire, and tried to sneak into Caesar’s Fort across the Colorado River…

“That is not for you to know,” I said as forcefully as I could from behind the cloth in front of my mouth. “This report is for the eyes and ears of Vulpes Inculta only, until he tells me otherwise.” I pulled the machete from my belt. “I could tell you… but then I’d have to slit your throat.”

To his credit, he didn’t flinch. He just stepped to the side, and gestured an arm to let me pass. I sheathed the machete and walked off the dock. As I passed, the Legion soldier called back: “You certainly speak like one of The Fox’s men. No respect for honorable combat.”

“Vulpes…” I growled, finally putting the picture together. “Son of a bitch…”

“What?” Cass asked.

“I know who their boss is…” I said, shaking my head. “Vulpes… The Legion Fox! It all makes sense now! The name, the red clothing, the brutality, the slavery… it all makes sense! All this time, and we’ve still just been fighting Caesar’s Legion!”