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Will someone please tell me how to make a good ending to a fan fic, this is pathetic.
Well, here goes anyway:
The author reserves the right to yell at anyone who criticizes him. Author's name: William of the Order.
Going home… eventually
Warning: No main plot.
Flashes of colored light breaking through the darkness, mostly orange and red, music, laughter, a gunshot. This is a town that knows no law. Most of the buildings and streets are covered by the scary glow of the burning barrels and the few neon lights. Another gunshot. The crowd applauds as the lifeless body of the gambler, the cheating gambler, falls down to the earth. The people surround the shooter, the whores come out and offer him their services and the junkies, the junkies don't seem to realize what's going on.
The man, dressed in a sloppy travelers outfit, covered by a leather jacket, ignores the crowd, puts his head back over his dirty black hair and turns around, walking out of town. He has to stay clear of this town for a couple of weeks, so the relatives and friends of his victim can cool down and he won't have to fear for any acts of vengeance. As he walks out of town the children gather around the dead body, stealing from it. As a wise man once said: 'Hell doesn't always look like hell, on a good day, it can look a lot like New Reno.'
It started raining, nothing much, but pretty unusual for New California's climate. And before the rain washed away the bloodstain, the body was already taken to Golgotha, which would have to expand soon.
In the distance, to the south, two light appeared and grew. Soon one could recognize the sound of a car engine, a Corvega Highwayman V28 for the connoisseurs. Less than a minute later the vehicle pulled in the parking lot in Virgin street for caravans and cars, in front of the Cat's Paw. Instead of parking the vehicle in one of the designated squares, the driver parks his car diagonally between two rows, blocking the way for a merchant in his truck. The driver stepped out of the car. The merchant was just about to start insulting the driver, but then quickly swallowed his words, he didn't know this man, but did know his kind. The driver was dressed in a gray suit, complete with a necktie and everything and had a black trench coat hanging over his shoulders, his long brown hair was tied in a pony tail on the back of his head, clearly a mobster. The mobster took of his shaded glasses and put them in his pocket, then threw a burned up cigarette on the ground. The man was unarmed. As the mobster walked towards the parking lot's exit he heard someone call him, loud… and disrespectfully.
'He you! Yeah you, with the girlie hair, get that car out of the way!'
The mobster turned around to see who he was dealing with and saw a man in a leather jacket standing on top of his car, it was the man from the shoot out a couple of minutes ago, but the mobster didn't know that. Then he spoke with an Italian accent: 'And just who might you be?'
'I am the parking attendant, and you are bothering my customers.' The man answered smiling and pointing at the merchant.
'Am I bothering you?' The mobster asked looking at the merchant, who was using every symbol for no he knew while shaking his head nervously in the mean time. 'He says I'm not bothering him, but you, you are bothering me.' The mobster continued, signaling some thugs, who were perfect strangers to him. Three of them came forward, being more afraid of the mobster than the gunslinger. Immediately the man jumped behind the car, then jumped up again to fire his Desert Eagle, only to see a throwing knife separate his vision into two separate parts, then nothing. As the gunslinger dropped on the hood of the car, a knife sticking out of his forehead, the mobster turned around, padded one of the thugs on the shoulder and said: 'Thanks for the knife.' Then walked away, leaving them with their mouths wide open. The mobster walked along the streets, when he was interrupted… again! A drunk exiting the casino bumped into him and was just going to walk away. Quickly the mobster grabbed the drunk by his shoulder and turned him around.
'Do you have any idea at all who I am!?' the mobster asked irritated, yet calm.
The drunk, who was dressed in a dark bleu outfit, probably an uniform with parts of it just ripped of the sleeves, looked at him from behind his wet blond hair, which now covered his dark brown eyes. They seemed to look angry, annoyed at the very least, but the rest of the face just looked like any other drunk, so the mobster didn't take it as an offense, besides, he once knew someone with the same 'problem'. Looking carefully through his dirty, wet hair the drunk responded.
'Y-yes, To… Tony.'
The mobster was amazed, yet at the same time insulted and almost yelled: 'Anthony! Anthony Clerichuzzio! And who th…' A flash of recognition went through the mobster's eyes and from one moment to the other his accent just vanished, like snow in the desert. 'William?'
'Y-yes?'
'What the hell are you doing here!?'
'Dri… thinking.'
'How did you get here?'
'I fl… flew.'
'Sure you did, how much did you drink anyway?'
'25, maybe 26'
'It's a miracle you're still alive, I thought you didn't drink? Anyway, it looks like 25 is you lucky number. And let's get you some place to rest.'
'NO! I don't wanna rest! And you told me yourself that one is the loneliest number.' William answered hitting Anthony's arm away and sobering up a little.
'Ok then, come with me.' Anthony said and took William back into the casino. They sat down in a quiet corner of the casino and immediately a waiter showed up. Anthony ordered a can of coffee, despite of the angry, real, look from William and the surprised look on the waiter's face. The waiter left joking, saying that he would see if anyone still remembered how to make coffee.
'Why did you get back here.' Anthony started.
'I was going home but then I decided I needed to… think.'
'Sure you were, but why do you still call that place home? This is home.'
'Noh… Not anymore.'
'Ah, come on, what you do for them is basically the same as what you did for us. Where did you come from anyway.' Anthony said irritated.
'Classified.'
'Ah damn you! 25 drinks and still…'
'I had good news and bad news, the good news is classified and the bad new… is bad.'
William told Anthony about Henry's death and he now had to be the one to tell his mother, unless his father did that for him.
The images return, shimmering through the darkness. Vaguely he recognizes a bed in the darkness, he's on it, next to it he sees the dark contours of a man in a trench coat and with a hat on, standing in the door opening, looking at him. William, who was still dressed, a bad habit he picked up on missions, attempted to recognize the man, but came to the conclusion that he didn't know him. He head a headache and was dizzy. Suddenly the man reached under his raincoat, pulled out a pump shotgun and aimed it at Williams head. William quickly rolled to his right, of the bed, grabbing his 223. pistol of the cabinet next to the bed, then, as he hit the ground, he fired. The bullet entered the mans throat and went right passed his spine, shattering his air pipe, then left on the other side and impacted again in a wall across the door. In shock the man pulled the trigger on the shotgun and blew a big hole in the bed, on the spot William was just seconds ago, then dropped the shotgun and grabbed his own throat, as if that would help. Down the stairs William could hear the panicking voice of Anthony and then footsteps running up the stairs. Just as the man dropped to his knees, coughing up blood and blood gushing out of his throat underneath his hand, Anthony appeared behind the man in the door opening, a throwing knife ready. The man fell over and stopped coughing and William stepped over the body, looking around the door corners, still holding his 223.. With a dry voice he said to Anthony:
'Home, huh?' Then stepped back over the body, lifted the man's head by the hair and asked:
'Who is this, Anthony?' William usually only used Anthony's full name when angry or accusing him of something.
'I don't know.' Anthony answered, failing in his attempt to sound sincere.
'Well think, Anthony, who could he be!?' William said, clearly loosing his patience.
'Family.' Anthony answered with a cold tone in his voice.
'Why!?'
'I failed, I was supposed to set some examples and retrieve money, but one got away and now I'm accused of stealing the money he had for my own.'
'Did you?' William calmed down. 'If there's a way I can help you I will, but I can't kill any more family, unless in self defense, I'm still a member of the family myself.'
'Believe me, I didn't do it. If I could get this guy and the money I'd be allowed back. I was trying to find him when my car started acting weird and I had to come here. I heard he was seen in Modoc.
'You really need one, don't you kid?' The man asked. He was of a dark skintone and had gray, short hair with a beard, his wrinkles just vanished whenever he was talking about his work. His clothes were covered in grease and stains that were older than William himself.
'What does it look like T-ray? My friend and I need transportation and fast!' William answered, saying the obvious.
'I thought you already had 'transport', kid.' T-ray said with a mysterious tone in his voice and a conspiring look in his eyes.
'Transport yes, fuel no. I sent her back to NAR headquarters, with a message.'
T-ray and William had known each other for as long as William could remember. Anthony and William one day came across the chopshop in their childhood and almost immediately after that they had declared T-ray uncle T-ray, or at least, William did. William was sent back to the chopshop on several occasions after that, in the time he still worked actively for the Santadios, before they relocated their organization to the Hub.
'I know what your thinking, kid, those were the days, I'll see what I can get you.' and to Anthony T-ray said on a whispering tone: 'He never became a cop, did he? He knows more criminals than I do.'
'What are you whispering T-ray? Didn't your mother tell you that's rude.'
'Nothing, nothing. Just wait here.'
There they were, standing in 'uncle T-ray's' office, when Arthur came in, William never liked him. He looked around for a while and then asked: 'Does any of you know where the super toolkit is?'
'Not in here, through the door, second locker on your left.' William said, he had spend so much time in here he knew exactly where everything was. Arthur walked through the door, to the right, then stuck his head around the corner and said: 'He dipshit, there ain't no toolkit in here! What makes you think you can screw with me!?' giving William the finger.
After looking at Anthony, who got the message not to interfere, William went around the corner. Because of all the time William spend in New Reno with the families he would not allow anyone he doesn't know or like talk to him like that. He grabbed Arthur's arm, twisted it behind his back and slammed him with his face into a locker. He could hear the sound of Arthur's nose break and the metal locker dent, then let him go and watched him fall to the ground, covering his nose with his hands.
'That one, asshole.'
At the very moment William entered the office, the backdoor opened and T-ray signaled them to get over there. Behind the door was the chopshop junkyard and in the middle of an opening between the wreckages was a rusty highwayman. Two guards were by it.
'Consider this a loaner. I do want it back.' T-ray said. 'Mikey there stole it from the parking lot in just 13 minutes after I told him.' T-ray continued proud. Mikey was his son. 'Now, will you remember my request?'
'Don't worry about it T. I sent a message already. I'm sure someone will remind me.'
As they drove the car away from the chopshop Anthony asked: 'What was that all about?'
'Well.' William explained 'Now New Reno joined the republic the town is bound to be 'cleansed' a little. This way the mob and other criminals will be forced to bring certain parts of their businesses to the underground, something that never was necessary before. So T-ray wants to legalize his business a little by building cars out of salvaged wreckages and I'm to ask New Arroyo to drop any junk they don't need of at T-rays junkyard, free of charge. That's also a pretty good cover to continue stealing, hiding the stolen vehicles between the junk.'
'Anthony laughed. 'T-ray was right.'
The flickering light of the campfire played tricks with the shadows. William was sitting on the hood of the car with his legs crossed. William tried to meditate, something he tried to learn for years already, but always failed. When Anthony asked him why he did this the only response he ever got was, 'I'm trying to become invisible.' Something William once saw a hubologist do, until this day, even with training from spirituals from different cults, William never understood. Suddenly William slid of the car and looked into the darkness. His eyesight had always been above average, but he still hardly recognized Anthony outside the light of the fire, looking for anything that might burn.
'Who are we looking for anyway?' William spoke into the darkness and from the darkness Anthony's voice answered: 'Some guy named Sam or Samuel. He misses one hand from an earlier conflict with the Santadios, and he has a big S burned into his forehead. He says it stands for Samuel, but actually he got it from the family as well.'
William walked around the car to get his cleaning kit, to clean his 223., by lack of better things to do. As he stepped behind the car a man jumped up, nearly pushing his shotgun up William's nose. This man was clearly a farmer, but somehow William thought he wasn't quite as reasonable.
'Who are you? Who were you talking to!?' The man asked, moving the shotgun even closer to William's head. Suddenly William heard a 'tud' sound and the farmers eyes rolled up as he fell down. 'Me.' Anthony said, standing behind the man with a big rock in his hands.
They stopped on top of a hill at night. They could see Modoc in it's entire from up there. Modoc now was a medium sized town. Modoc had access to all the New Arroyan technologies, because unlike New Reno they didn't just join the republic, they allowed themselves to become a part of New Arroyo itself, kind of like a neighborhood, only with 200 miles between any of the others. The town still was as sleepy as could be expected from a farming community, even though the commercial area, where the bars were, was still busy. Most of the lights in the city were off, but in the outskirts of the town, where the farms were it still was light enough to make anyone think it daytime. The light came from the long glass structures, William didn't know what they were called only that it was an ancient invention used by one country in particular across the ocean, he didn't know which country either. The structures were capable of providing the plants inside with any desirable climate and because the lights were still on at night the plants continued growing, this way food could be grown for the republic at least 3 times faster than any normal farm. New plants were grown here and even though these structures wouldn't be a match for the biodome the Brotherhood was building at Oasis at the east coast, there were few travelers who had been to Modoc without noticing them.
'S-marking, missing left hand, named Samuel, right?' William asked.
'Yes, let's go.'
He ran and ran. He ran through 5 allays and if he could get back to the commercial area of town, they wouldn't be able to, or dare, to follow him. He stopped and looked behind him, no one there, he sat down and started laughing, or crying, who could tell. He looked and saw the guy in the raincoat come around the corner. By now he started to realize that this might very well be the only one after him. He pulled out a knife and the man got closer and closer, very slowly with his hands in his pockets, making him nervous. He dropped the knife and started running again, ran into another allay, knocking over garbage cans, barrels and boxes to block the way for the mobster. His gray hair was now dirty of sweat and his clothes were torn by nails and obstacles along the route. He could hear the music from the bars already as he bumped into a blond man, he was going to apologize and run on when the man grabbed him by his right arm and threw him into a wall. Then the man stepped up behind him, grabbed his arm again, twisted it behind his back and said: 'You have the ri… Oh, wait, I'm of duty, sorry.' Everything got black.
A woman screamed. William immediately jumped up, Anthony turned around a few times before saying: 'Eh, what?' He lifted his head to look around, then let it fall back on the pillow. Standing up from the chair, they tossed for the bed and William lost, since there was only one room free, William listened carefully to the sounds outside and said: 'Shh!' He could hear a man yell: 'Somebody get the sheriff, we got a stiff back here!' Looking through the window William could see a mass of people gathering around the allay and a few running towards the sheriff's office. William went downstairs and into the streets, even with his ID held high above his head he had a tough time getting through the crowd. As he finally got through he saw the sheriff already was there.
'Go get the coroner.' He said to one of the officers.
'What do you think, sheriff?' William asked.
'I think you should tell me what you are doing on this side of the line and who you are.'
William handed his ID to the sheriff. 'Lieutenant William Vangameren, New Arroyo Elites. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, a hotel less than 150 feet from here. And I assume you are Sheriff Parker?'
'Correct, how did you… never mind. I think this is a mob case. He was shot from very close, one of my deputies recognized one of the items he had as Samuel the Cleaner's. He used to have a cleaning business and it was rumored he also cleaned houses for the mob, guess in what way.'
'Can I see the items that were on the body.' William asked, putting his ID back in his pocket.
'You're looking for anything in particular?' The sheriff asked.
'No, just information. And a coroners report.' William answered, pointing at the body being carried away. The sheriff signaled one of his deputies to come and the deputy gave William a plastic bag.
To the deputy William said, taking a key out of the bag: 'Go find out what this key belongs to and bring it or what's inside here.' The sheriff was about to protest until William said: 'Please don't make me pull rank on you, sheriff, and let me do my work, then I'll let you do yours.'
The deputy left and fifteen minutes later he returned. 'The safe empty sir, someone even took the deposit box.'
'Damn, well sheriff, I want that report in two hours, then I go back.
'You! I thought I told you not to come back!' The man behind the desk, in his early forties, with his hair already entirely gray, said angrily. The man was hardly any longer than Anthony and was dressed in the same type of clothing, even though this man was dressed in black and didn't wear a jacket to match his suit.
'I'm sorry Padrino, you told me not to come back, unless…'
'He got you your money back and proved his innocence.' William said, finishing Anthony's sentence. He walked to the desk and threw the autopsy report on it, while Anthony placed an open safe deposit box next to it. The padrino glanced at the content of the box and nodded approvingly, then opened the autopsy report, studied some of the photographs and smiled at Anthony. 'Anthony'
'Yes Padrino?' Anthony answered hopeful. Seeing Anthony crawl for this man really made William sick, that too was one of the reasons he quit the family back then.
'Welcome back, Anthony.' And to the guards in the room he said: 'Go spread the word Anthony is back.
'Thank you, Padrino.' Anthony answered smiling and turned around to leave.
'And Anthony…' The padrino continued.
'Yes Padrino?'
'You're lucky you found him in New Reno and Matt tried to kill the wrong guy, I doubt you'd be standing here if he didn't.' The padrino said, waving his hand at Anthony, telling him to leave now.
That remark got William's attention and he asked: 'How did you know that.'
'You didn't think I would send just one man after a traitor, did you?.'
'I thought your father was still running the business here, Dante.' William said, on the cold tone mobsters are known for.
'I'll let you of this time, what are you implying?' Dante responded at the same tone.
'I just want to know what happened to him.' William said artificially innocent.
'Well, Croccifixio and I… retired him. Now I'm entitled to a question, where were you?'
'Classified' William moaned and turned around, then stopped in the door opening, looked back and said: 'Don't worry about your conscience, about your father I mean, I'm sure someone will someday do the same for you… maybe Anthony.'
'Probably' Was the only answer Dante gave, looking sad. As William walked down the hall he could hear Anthony assure his Padrino he would never do that. William felt the urge to spit as he even thought the word. He despised the Family, not for what they do to others, but each other, and still have the guts to compare their organization to a family.
As William walked into the streets of the Hub, which he had never seen before, he found it difficult to believe that this town was once trampled by a fleeing army of mutants, even including the fact that that was far over a century ago. It looked a bit like New Reno, but mobster had been forced to work in the underground ever since the town was founded. Cops were at every corner and even though everyone knows the families and gangs are there and what they do, no one can prove it. It is rumored on the streets that the families were going to bundle forces and overthrow the local government. William didn't find that hard to believe at all, since he knew the NCR was trying to get a grip on the Hub and that would be even worse for business. The New California Republic was trying to expand to the south, the same way New Arroyo was to the north, with vault 5 and the empty vault 7 a couple of years ago. Both NAR and NCR were currently in dispute over Navarro and now the Shi are trying to take it over as well. William wondered what would happen with the planned railroads from LA to the Hub, from the Hub to NCR, from NCR to San Francisco and New Reno, and finally from San Francisco and New Reno to New Arroyo. But it wasn't to important, New Arroyo can reach LA and San Francisco from the New Arroyo Harbor as well. Just as William had put these thoughts aside he heard a familiar voice, Dante's. 'William! Wait a minute.' William turned around and saw Dante coming after him.
'What is it?' William asked when Dante stood still.
'You're a patriot of some sorts, right?'
'Sort of, If anyone or thing close to me would benefit from your death…'
'Uhm, yes, see, we have a job for you, none of our men can do it, since most mobster don't care about not being seen.'
'It all depends.' William answered, realizing this could be important.
'We need someone to go to NCR and get a list of people we can't risk to bribe, you know, NCR spies and infiltrators. Then we can bribe whoever isn't on the list and expose those on the list to the inhabitants, so they'll lynch those bastards and presto, they'll need at least 20 years to get back where they were right now. You'll get to help the NAR to stay on top and the families will owe you, all of them.'
'All of them?' William asked, having trouble to believe this, even though he knew that in the Family lying was worse than killing your mother, because that would prove you can't be trusted.
'Big time.' Dante answered smiling.
'And how am I supposed to do this?' William asked.
'I'm sure there are a few people there who owe you a favor. You'll figure something. You kind of have the reputation of taking extra 'work' on missions.'
Failing in his attempt to look doubting William said: 'Ok, I'll do it.'
William arrived in NCR at noon and spent some time looking around the bazaar a little, he had bought some small energy cells for his shocker and laser whip, which he hardly ever used because of the fact that there was little ammo available for it. Besides, his favorite weapons were sniper rifles and small, easily to hide powerful weapons, preferable his 223., which used the same ammo as his sniper rifle, meaning he had to carry less around. At first William wanted to wait until night, but that would be stupid, cause the city itself is a public area, so it wouldn't be necessary. He was now wearing some clothes he bought of a merchant along the way to NCR, still his uniform, but a dark green shirt instead of his black one and a brown leather jacket instead of the dark blue one from his uniform. Also he had painted his hair brown with some stuff he bought from a gypsy traveling along with the caravan he met, after he dyed his hair she told him it would stay in for FOUR WEEKS! He was very, very close to attacking her when she told him, cause William actually thought it would was out, oh well. First he had to find a place where 'he could be during his absence' as he called it, or, just get an alibi. He decided to go to the bar in front of the gate. When he got there he saw that the bar's name had been painted over in white, except for the word 'bar'. On the inside it was pretty much the same, only all the photo's and painting on the wall had been removed and there was another bartender, a woman dressed completely in black leather. The only thing that hadn't changed at all where the clients. In the back, standing against the wall close to the tap, was a dirty traveler, with a hat on so big that the shadow covered his entire face and smoke came from beneath it. In the corner right of the door were three men discussing something very excited, they stopped talking as William passed them by and then continued their conversation. I the middle were to caravan guards in leather armor sitting across each other playing cards, both with a glass on their left and a hunting knife on their left. At the end of the bar was a scarcely dressed woman, probably in her late thirties looking at her drink and at the other end was some loser staring at her. William went over to the bar and immediately the young woman came over to him and said: 'Hello, I'm Sally, what can I do for you?'
'What happened to this bar? Eight months ago Leonard was still behind the bar, where is he?'
'Leonard, ehm, he doesn't own the bar anymore, he left, I don't know where.'
William leaned with his head on his arms and moaned softly: 'Damn, everything screws up, first the hair and now this, somebody please shoot me.'
Suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw the barrel of a desert eagle get way to close to his head and he heard someone say: 'Gladly stranger, gladly.'
Quickly William grabbed the weapon at the barrel and pulled it out of the man's hand, it was the same man that was smoking in the bar a minute ago. Immediately the man kicked the weapon out of his hands, then turned and kicked him with the other foot straight in the face, causing William to fall back against the bar. The man grabbed one of the knifes of the table of the two card players and stepped towards William, the suddenly said: 'Wi…?' He didn't finish the word, cause William grabbed a bottle of Rotgut from the bar and smashed it into his face, the man fell back to the ground, confused. William drew his 223. and stepped towards the man on the ground and shot, shooting right through the lower part of the man's pant's groin, the bullet impacting into the ground.
'Oops, the target must have been smaller than I thought.' William said smiling and continued on a slightly more serious tone. 'Your lucky I recognized you in time or you would have lost something very dear to you.'
The man who jumped up as the bullet almost separated him from his favorite body part, took of his hat and looked down as to check whether everything was still in place, then looked at William and said:
'Damn-it Will! Stop playing those stupid games!'
'He, you attacked me, so I figured I was entitled to have a little fun.'
'Well, I'm sorry. I thought you were send by the mob.'
'I am, but not for you. I'm going to need a place to stay during my absence. Remember you still owe me one.'
'Don't worry about it, you see those guys playing cards, you've played cards with them the whole evening, the short one's named Larry and the tall one is named Bernard, but his friends call him Berny. You got drunk and spent the night with Sally. Can you mimic a good hangover tomorrow?'
<< to be continued >>
Well, here goes anyway:
The author reserves the right to yell at anyone who criticizes him. Author's name: William of the Order.
Going home… eventually
Warning: No main plot.
Flashes of colored light breaking through the darkness, mostly orange and red, music, laughter, a gunshot. This is a town that knows no law. Most of the buildings and streets are covered by the scary glow of the burning barrels and the few neon lights. Another gunshot. The crowd applauds as the lifeless body of the gambler, the cheating gambler, falls down to the earth. The people surround the shooter, the whores come out and offer him their services and the junkies, the junkies don't seem to realize what's going on.
The man, dressed in a sloppy travelers outfit, covered by a leather jacket, ignores the crowd, puts his head back over his dirty black hair and turns around, walking out of town. He has to stay clear of this town for a couple of weeks, so the relatives and friends of his victim can cool down and he won't have to fear for any acts of vengeance. As he walks out of town the children gather around the dead body, stealing from it. As a wise man once said: 'Hell doesn't always look like hell, on a good day, it can look a lot like New Reno.'
It started raining, nothing much, but pretty unusual for New California's climate. And before the rain washed away the bloodstain, the body was already taken to Golgotha, which would have to expand soon.
In the distance, to the south, two light appeared and grew. Soon one could recognize the sound of a car engine, a Corvega Highwayman V28 for the connoisseurs. Less than a minute later the vehicle pulled in the parking lot in Virgin street for caravans and cars, in front of the Cat's Paw. Instead of parking the vehicle in one of the designated squares, the driver parks his car diagonally between two rows, blocking the way for a merchant in his truck. The driver stepped out of the car. The merchant was just about to start insulting the driver, but then quickly swallowed his words, he didn't know this man, but did know his kind. The driver was dressed in a gray suit, complete with a necktie and everything and had a black trench coat hanging over his shoulders, his long brown hair was tied in a pony tail on the back of his head, clearly a mobster. The mobster took of his shaded glasses and put them in his pocket, then threw a burned up cigarette on the ground. The man was unarmed. As the mobster walked towards the parking lot's exit he heard someone call him, loud… and disrespectfully.
'He you! Yeah you, with the girlie hair, get that car out of the way!'
The mobster turned around to see who he was dealing with and saw a man in a leather jacket standing on top of his car, it was the man from the shoot out a couple of minutes ago, but the mobster didn't know that. Then he spoke with an Italian accent: 'And just who might you be?'
'I am the parking attendant, and you are bothering my customers.' The man answered smiling and pointing at the merchant.
'Am I bothering you?' The mobster asked looking at the merchant, who was using every symbol for no he knew while shaking his head nervously in the mean time. 'He says I'm not bothering him, but you, you are bothering me.' The mobster continued, signaling some thugs, who were perfect strangers to him. Three of them came forward, being more afraid of the mobster than the gunslinger. Immediately the man jumped behind the car, then jumped up again to fire his Desert Eagle, only to see a throwing knife separate his vision into two separate parts, then nothing. As the gunslinger dropped on the hood of the car, a knife sticking out of his forehead, the mobster turned around, padded one of the thugs on the shoulder and said: 'Thanks for the knife.' Then walked away, leaving them with their mouths wide open. The mobster walked along the streets, when he was interrupted… again! A drunk exiting the casino bumped into him and was just going to walk away. Quickly the mobster grabbed the drunk by his shoulder and turned him around.
'Do you have any idea at all who I am!?' the mobster asked irritated, yet calm.
The drunk, who was dressed in a dark bleu outfit, probably an uniform with parts of it just ripped of the sleeves, looked at him from behind his wet blond hair, which now covered his dark brown eyes. They seemed to look angry, annoyed at the very least, but the rest of the face just looked like any other drunk, so the mobster didn't take it as an offense, besides, he once knew someone with the same 'problem'. Looking carefully through his dirty, wet hair the drunk responded.
'Y-yes, To… Tony.'
The mobster was amazed, yet at the same time insulted and almost yelled: 'Anthony! Anthony Clerichuzzio! And who th…' A flash of recognition went through the mobster's eyes and from one moment to the other his accent just vanished, like snow in the desert. 'William?'
'Y-yes?'
'What the hell are you doing here!?'
'Dri… thinking.'
'How did you get here?'
'I fl… flew.'
'Sure you did, how much did you drink anyway?'
'25, maybe 26'
'It's a miracle you're still alive, I thought you didn't drink? Anyway, it looks like 25 is you lucky number. And let's get you some place to rest.'
'NO! I don't wanna rest! And you told me yourself that one is the loneliest number.' William answered hitting Anthony's arm away and sobering up a little.
'Ok then, come with me.' Anthony said and took William back into the casino. They sat down in a quiet corner of the casino and immediately a waiter showed up. Anthony ordered a can of coffee, despite of the angry, real, look from William and the surprised look on the waiter's face. The waiter left joking, saying that he would see if anyone still remembered how to make coffee.
'Why did you get back here.' Anthony started.
'I was going home but then I decided I needed to… think.'
'Sure you were, but why do you still call that place home? This is home.'
'Noh… Not anymore.'
'Ah, come on, what you do for them is basically the same as what you did for us. Where did you come from anyway.' Anthony said irritated.
'Classified.'
'Ah damn you! 25 drinks and still…'
'I had good news and bad news, the good news is classified and the bad new… is bad.'
William told Anthony about Henry's death and he now had to be the one to tell his mother, unless his father did that for him.
The images return, shimmering through the darkness. Vaguely he recognizes a bed in the darkness, he's on it, next to it he sees the dark contours of a man in a trench coat and with a hat on, standing in the door opening, looking at him. William, who was still dressed, a bad habit he picked up on missions, attempted to recognize the man, but came to the conclusion that he didn't know him. He head a headache and was dizzy. Suddenly the man reached under his raincoat, pulled out a pump shotgun and aimed it at Williams head. William quickly rolled to his right, of the bed, grabbing his 223. pistol of the cabinet next to the bed, then, as he hit the ground, he fired. The bullet entered the mans throat and went right passed his spine, shattering his air pipe, then left on the other side and impacted again in a wall across the door. In shock the man pulled the trigger on the shotgun and blew a big hole in the bed, on the spot William was just seconds ago, then dropped the shotgun and grabbed his own throat, as if that would help. Down the stairs William could hear the panicking voice of Anthony and then footsteps running up the stairs. Just as the man dropped to his knees, coughing up blood and blood gushing out of his throat underneath his hand, Anthony appeared behind the man in the door opening, a throwing knife ready. The man fell over and stopped coughing and William stepped over the body, looking around the door corners, still holding his 223.. With a dry voice he said to Anthony:
'Home, huh?' Then stepped back over the body, lifted the man's head by the hair and asked:
'Who is this, Anthony?' William usually only used Anthony's full name when angry or accusing him of something.
'I don't know.' Anthony answered, failing in his attempt to sound sincere.
'Well think, Anthony, who could he be!?' William said, clearly loosing his patience.
'Family.' Anthony answered with a cold tone in his voice.
'Why!?'
'I failed, I was supposed to set some examples and retrieve money, but one got away and now I'm accused of stealing the money he had for my own.'
'Did you?' William calmed down. 'If there's a way I can help you I will, but I can't kill any more family, unless in self defense, I'm still a member of the family myself.'
'Believe me, I didn't do it. If I could get this guy and the money I'd be allowed back. I was trying to find him when my car started acting weird and I had to come here. I heard he was seen in Modoc.
'You really need one, don't you kid?' The man asked. He was of a dark skintone and had gray, short hair with a beard, his wrinkles just vanished whenever he was talking about his work. His clothes were covered in grease and stains that were older than William himself.
'What does it look like T-ray? My friend and I need transportation and fast!' William answered, saying the obvious.
'I thought you already had 'transport', kid.' T-ray said with a mysterious tone in his voice and a conspiring look in his eyes.
'Transport yes, fuel no. I sent her back to NAR headquarters, with a message.'
T-ray and William had known each other for as long as William could remember. Anthony and William one day came across the chopshop in their childhood and almost immediately after that they had declared T-ray uncle T-ray, or at least, William did. William was sent back to the chopshop on several occasions after that, in the time he still worked actively for the Santadios, before they relocated their organization to the Hub.
'I know what your thinking, kid, those were the days, I'll see what I can get you.' and to Anthony T-ray said on a whispering tone: 'He never became a cop, did he? He knows more criminals than I do.'
'What are you whispering T-ray? Didn't your mother tell you that's rude.'
'Nothing, nothing. Just wait here.'
There they were, standing in 'uncle T-ray's' office, when Arthur came in, William never liked him. He looked around for a while and then asked: 'Does any of you know where the super toolkit is?'
'Not in here, through the door, second locker on your left.' William said, he had spend so much time in here he knew exactly where everything was. Arthur walked through the door, to the right, then stuck his head around the corner and said: 'He dipshit, there ain't no toolkit in here! What makes you think you can screw with me!?' giving William the finger.
After looking at Anthony, who got the message not to interfere, William went around the corner. Because of all the time William spend in New Reno with the families he would not allow anyone he doesn't know or like talk to him like that. He grabbed Arthur's arm, twisted it behind his back and slammed him with his face into a locker. He could hear the sound of Arthur's nose break and the metal locker dent, then let him go and watched him fall to the ground, covering his nose with his hands.
'That one, asshole.'
At the very moment William entered the office, the backdoor opened and T-ray signaled them to get over there. Behind the door was the chopshop junkyard and in the middle of an opening between the wreckages was a rusty highwayman. Two guards were by it.
'Consider this a loaner. I do want it back.' T-ray said. 'Mikey there stole it from the parking lot in just 13 minutes after I told him.' T-ray continued proud. Mikey was his son. 'Now, will you remember my request?'
'Don't worry about it T. I sent a message already. I'm sure someone will remind me.'
As they drove the car away from the chopshop Anthony asked: 'What was that all about?'
'Well.' William explained 'Now New Reno joined the republic the town is bound to be 'cleansed' a little. This way the mob and other criminals will be forced to bring certain parts of their businesses to the underground, something that never was necessary before. So T-ray wants to legalize his business a little by building cars out of salvaged wreckages and I'm to ask New Arroyo to drop any junk they don't need of at T-rays junkyard, free of charge. That's also a pretty good cover to continue stealing, hiding the stolen vehicles between the junk.'
'Anthony laughed. 'T-ray was right.'
The flickering light of the campfire played tricks with the shadows. William was sitting on the hood of the car with his legs crossed. William tried to meditate, something he tried to learn for years already, but always failed. When Anthony asked him why he did this the only response he ever got was, 'I'm trying to become invisible.' Something William once saw a hubologist do, until this day, even with training from spirituals from different cults, William never understood. Suddenly William slid of the car and looked into the darkness. His eyesight had always been above average, but he still hardly recognized Anthony outside the light of the fire, looking for anything that might burn.
'Who are we looking for anyway?' William spoke into the darkness and from the darkness Anthony's voice answered: 'Some guy named Sam or Samuel. He misses one hand from an earlier conflict with the Santadios, and he has a big S burned into his forehead. He says it stands for Samuel, but actually he got it from the family as well.'
William walked around the car to get his cleaning kit, to clean his 223., by lack of better things to do. As he stepped behind the car a man jumped up, nearly pushing his shotgun up William's nose. This man was clearly a farmer, but somehow William thought he wasn't quite as reasonable.
'Who are you? Who were you talking to!?' The man asked, moving the shotgun even closer to William's head. Suddenly William heard a 'tud' sound and the farmers eyes rolled up as he fell down. 'Me.' Anthony said, standing behind the man with a big rock in his hands.
They stopped on top of a hill at night. They could see Modoc in it's entire from up there. Modoc now was a medium sized town. Modoc had access to all the New Arroyan technologies, because unlike New Reno they didn't just join the republic, they allowed themselves to become a part of New Arroyo itself, kind of like a neighborhood, only with 200 miles between any of the others. The town still was as sleepy as could be expected from a farming community, even though the commercial area, where the bars were, was still busy. Most of the lights in the city were off, but in the outskirts of the town, where the farms were it still was light enough to make anyone think it daytime. The light came from the long glass structures, William didn't know what they were called only that it was an ancient invention used by one country in particular across the ocean, he didn't know which country either. The structures were capable of providing the plants inside with any desirable climate and because the lights were still on at night the plants continued growing, this way food could be grown for the republic at least 3 times faster than any normal farm. New plants were grown here and even though these structures wouldn't be a match for the biodome the Brotherhood was building at Oasis at the east coast, there were few travelers who had been to Modoc without noticing them.
'S-marking, missing left hand, named Samuel, right?' William asked.
'Yes, let's go.'
He ran and ran. He ran through 5 allays and if he could get back to the commercial area of town, they wouldn't be able to, or dare, to follow him. He stopped and looked behind him, no one there, he sat down and started laughing, or crying, who could tell. He looked and saw the guy in the raincoat come around the corner. By now he started to realize that this might very well be the only one after him. He pulled out a knife and the man got closer and closer, very slowly with his hands in his pockets, making him nervous. He dropped the knife and started running again, ran into another allay, knocking over garbage cans, barrels and boxes to block the way for the mobster. His gray hair was now dirty of sweat and his clothes were torn by nails and obstacles along the route. He could hear the music from the bars already as he bumped into a blond man, he was going to apologize and run on when the man grabbed him by his right arm and threw him into a wall. Then the man stepped up behind him, grabbed his arm again, twisted it behind his back and said: 'You have the ri… Oh, wait, I'm of duty, sorry.' Everything got black.
A woman screamed. William immediately jumped up, Anthony turned around a few times before saying: 'Eh, what?' He lifted his head to look around, then let it fall back on the pillow. Standing up from the chair, they tossed for the bed and William lost, since there was only one room free, William listened carefully to the sounds outside and said: 'Shh!' He could hear a man yell: 'Somebody get the sheriff, we got a stiff back here!' Looking through the window William could see a mass of people gathering around the allay and a few running towards the sheriff's office. William went downstairs and into the streets, even with his ID held high above his head he had a tough time getting through the crowd. As he finally got through he saw the sheriff already was there.
'Go get the coroner.' He said to one of the officers.
'What do you think, sheriff?' William asked.
'I think you should tell me what you are doing on this side of the line and who you are.'
William handed his ID to the sheriff. 'Lieutenant William Vangameren, New Arroyo Elites. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, a hotel less than 150 feet from here. And I assume you are Sheriff Parker?'
'Correct, how did you… never mind. I think this is a mob case. He was shot from very close, one of my deputies recognized one of the items he had as Samuel the Cleaner's. He used to have a cleaning business and it was rumored he also cleaned houses for the mob, guess in what way.'
'Can I see the items that were on the body.' William asked, putting his ID back in his pocket.
'You're looking for anything in particular?' The sheriff asked.
'No, just information. And a coroners report.' William answered, pointing at the body being carried away. The sheriff signaled one of his deputies to come and the deputy gave William a plastic bag.
To the deputy William said, taking a key out of the bag: 'Go find out what this key belongs to and bring it or what's inside here.' The sheriff was about to protest until William said: 'Please don't make me pull rank on you, sheriff, and let me do my work, then I'll let you do yours.'
The deputy left and fifteen minutes later he returned. 'The safe empty sir, someone even took the deposit box.'
'Damn, well sheriff, I want that report in two hours, then I go back.
'You! I thought I told you not to come back!' The man behind the desk, in his early forties, with his hair already entirely gray, said angrily. The man was hardly any longer than Anthony and was dressed in the same type of clothing, even though this man was dressed in black and didn't wear a jacket to match his suit.
'I'm sorry Padrino, you told me not to come back, unless…'
'He got you your money back and proved his innocence.' William said, finishing Anthony's sentence. He walked to the desk and threw the autopsy report on it, while Anthony placed an open safe deposit box next to it. The padrino glanced at the content of the box and nodded approvingly, then opened the autopsy report, studied some of the photographs and smiled at Anthony. 'Anthony'
'Yes Padrino?' Anthony answered hopeful. Seeing Anthony crawl for this man really made William sick, that too was one of the reasons he quit the family back then.
'Welcome back, Anthony.' And to the guards in the room he said: 'Go spread the word Anthony is back.
'Thank you, Padrino.' Anthony answered smiling and turned around to leave.
'And Anthony…' The padrino continued.
'Yes Padrino?'
'You're lucky you found him in New Reno and Matt tried to kill the wrong guy, I doubt you'd be standing here if he didn't.' The padrino said, waving his hand at Anthony, telling him to leave now.
That remark got William's attention and he asked: 'How did you know that.'
'You didn't think I would send just one man after a traitor, did you?.'
'I thought your father was still running the business here, Dante.' William said, on the cold tone mobsters are known for.
'I'll let you of this time, what are you implying?' Dante responded at the same tone.
'I just want to know what happened to him.' William said artificially innocent.
'Well, Croccifixio and I… retired him. Now I'm entitled to a question, where were you?'
'Classified' William moaned and turned around, then stopped in the door opening, looked back and said: 'Don't worry about your conscience, about your father I mean, I'm sure someone will someday do the same for you… maybe Anthony.'
'Probably' Was the only answer Dante gave, looking sad. As William walked down the hall he could hear Anthony assure his Padrino he would never do that. William felt the urge to spit as he even thought the word. He despised the Family, not for what they do to others, but each other, and still have the guts to compare their organization to a family.
As William walked into the streets of the Hub, which he had never seen before, he found it difficult to believe that this town was once trampled by a fleeing army of mutants, even including the fact that that was far over a century ago. It looked a bit like New Reno, but mobster had been forced to work in the underground ever since the town was founded. Cops were at every corner and even though everyone knows the families and gangs are there and what they do, no one can prove it. It is rumored on the streets that the families were going to bundle forces and overthrow the local government. William didn't find that hard to believe at all, since he knew the NCR was trying to get a grip on the Hub and that would be even worse for business. The New California Republic was trying to expand to the south, the same way New Arroyo was to the north, with vault 5 and the empty vault 7 a couple of years ago. Both NAR and NCR were currently in dispute over Navarro and now the Shi are trying to take it over as well. William wondered what would happen with the planned railroads from LA to the Hub, from the Hub to NCR, from NCR to San Francisco and New Reno, and finally from San Francisco and New Reno to New Arroyo. But it wasn't to important, New Arroyo can reach LA and San Francisco from the New Arroyo Harbor as well. Just as William had put these thoughts aside he heard a familiar voice, Dante's. 'William! Wait a minute.' William turned around and saw Dante coming after him.
'What is it?' William asked when Dante stood still.
'You're a patriot of some sorts, right?'
'Sort of, If anyone or thing close to me would benefit from your death…'
'Uhm, yes, see, we have a job for you, none of our men can do it, since most mobster don't care about not being seen.'
'It all depends.' William answered, realizing this could be important.
'We need someone to go to NCR and get a list of people we can't risk to bribe, you know, NCR spies and infiltrators. Then we can bribe whoever isn't on the list and expose those on the list to the inhabitants, so they'll lynch those bastards and presto, they'll need at least 20 years to get back where they were right now. You'll get to help the NAR to stay on top and the families will owe you, all of them.'
'All of them?' William asked, having trouble to believe this, even though he knew that in the Family lying was worse than killing your mother, because that would prove you can't be trusted.
'Big time.' Dante answered smiling.
'And how am I supposed to do this?' William asked.
'I'm sure there are a few people there who owe you a favor. You'll figure something. You kind of have the reputation of taking extra 'work' on missions.'
Failing in his attempt to look doubting William said: 'Ok, I'll do it.'
William arrived in NCR at noon and spent some time looking around the bazaar a little, he had bought some small energy cells for his shocker and laser whip, which he hardly ever used because of the fact that there was little ammo available for it. Besides, his favorite weapons were sniper rifles and small, easily to hide powerful weapons, preferable his 223., which used the same ammo as his sniper rifle, meaning he had to carry less around. At first William wanted to wait until night, but that would be stupid, cause the city itself is a public area, so it wouldn't be necessary. He was now wearing some clothes he bought of a merchant along the way to NCR, still his uniform, but a dark green shirt instead of his black one and a brown leather jacket instead of the dark blue one from his uniform. Also he had painted his hair brown with some stuff he bought from a gypsy traveling along with the caravan he met, after he dyed his hair she told him it would stay in for FOUR WEEKS! He was very, very close to attacking her when she told him, cause William actually thought it would was out, oh well. First he had to find a place where 'he could be during his absence' as he called it, or, just get an alibi. He decided to go to the bar in front of the gate. When he got there he saw that the bar's name had been painted over in white, except for the word 'bar'. On the inside it was pretty much the same, only all the photo's and painting on the wall had been removed and there was another bartender, a woman dressed completely in black leather. The only thing that hadn't changed at all where the clients. In the back, standing against the wall close to the tap, was a dirty traveler, with a hat on so big that the shadow covered his entire face and smoke came from beneath it. In the corner right of the door were three men discussing something very excited, they stopped talking as William passed them by and then continued their conversation. I the middle were to caravan guards in leather armor sitting across each other playing cards, both with a glass on their left and a hunting knife on their left. At the end of the bar was a scarcely dressed woman, probably in her late thirties looking at her drink and at the other end was some loser staring at her. William went over to the bar and immediately the young woman came over to him and said: 'Hello, I'm Sally, what can I do for you?'
'What happened to this bar? Eight months ago Leonard was still behind the bar, where is he?'
'Leonard, ehm, he doesn't own the bar anymore, he left, I don't know where.'
William leaned with his head on his arms and moaned softly: 'Damn, everything screws up, first the hair and now this, somebody please shoot me.'
Suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw the barrel of a desert eagle get way to close to his head and he heard someone say: 'Gladly stranger, gladly.'
Quickly William grabbed the weapon at the barrel and pulled it out of the man's hand, it was the same man that was smoking in the bar a minute ago. Immediately the man kicked the weapon out of his hands, then turned and kicked him with the other foot straight in the face, causing William to fall back against the bar. The man grabbed one of the knifes of the table of the two card players and stepped towards William, the suddenly said: 'Wi…?' He didn't finish the word, cause William grabbed a bottle of Rotgut from the bar and smashed it into his face, the man fell back to the ground, confused. William drew his 223. and stepped towards the man on the ground and shot, shooting right through the lower part of the man's pant's groin, the bullet impacting into the ground.
'Oops, the target must have been smaller than I thought.' William said smiling and continued on a slightly more serious tone. 'Your lucky I recognized you in time or you would have lost something very dear to you.'
The man who jumped up as the bullet almost separated him from his favorite body part, took of his hat and looked down as to check whether everything was still in place, then looked at William and said:
'Damn-it Will! Stop playing those stupid games!'
'He, you attacked me, so I figured I was entitled to have a little fun.'
'Well, I'm sorry. I thought you were send by the mob.'
'I am, but not for you. I'm going to need a place to stay during my absence. Remember you still owe me one.'
'Don't worry about it, you see those guys playing cards, you've played cards with them the whole evening, the short one's named Larry and the tall one is named Bernard, but his friends call him Berny. You got drunk and spent the night with Sally. Can you mimic a good hangover tomorrow?'
<< to be continued >>
(NT)
