Arcade whooped in joy as the wrecked spires of the city faded away. "See you in hell, assholes!"

"Yeah, fuck you, motherfuckers!" Six couldn't help joining in. "You evil, slaving, murdering pieces of shit! Present company excluded, of course." She wasn't quite sure she trusted Marcus just yet, but she knew he wasn't about to put a knife in their backs. He'd had the chance and they were still alive. Unless this was the most elaborate and pointless double-cross ever, he was for real.

Veronica winced. "Do you have to yell? We're going to attract deathclaws."

"I think they deserve a bit of a victory yelling session," Marcus said tiredly, leaning against Cass's shoulder.

"Sorry," Six apologized. "But I thought we were going to die in there. I really did. Then I thought that we were going to live, and that was worse."

"So did I," Arcade admitted. "I was hoping they'd just kill us, those last few days. For your sake more than mine. The look in your eyes when you walked back into the clinic this morning … it was like you were already dead inside, and just waiting for the rest of you to catch up."

"What's the plan for when we get to the NCR?" Six asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible. "As much as I just want to go drink on a beach, I kind of feel like we have a responsibility to do something about the Legion before they take over the whole Southwest."

"I had an idea or two," Cass said. "Six, how do you feel about working your weird voodoo people skills some more? I think it's time that the NCR patched things up with the Brotherhood of Steel and the Followers. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that. We tried to talk to the NCR leadership before, but they just dismissed us as semi-traitors. Now that we're coming back with a shit-ton of intel from you guys and Marcus, I think Kimball will have to meet with us."

"That sounds like a plan. And like you can talk about weird voodoo? You managed to convince a legionary spy to switch sides with your sex magic."

"The course of true love never did run smooth," Cass said, smiling at Marcus, who appeared to be half-asleep, and linking her hand with his.

True love? Now there's a surprise, Six thought. Then again, a guy who would betray an army, incur a price on his head, and march across the desert on a suicide mission to rescue people he's never met is probably someone you want to hold on to. She caught Arcade's eye and smiled, knowing they were both thinking of their lunch break conversation about Cass's hookups. Guess it wasn't worse than death after all.

"There's a Brotherhood bunker outside of the Boneyard," Veronica volunteered. "We can stop there before going to Shady Sands to prime the pump a bit. I think there's a beach you can drink at, too, if that's important to you."

"Oh, God, I missed alcohol so much," Arcade groaned. "Less than I missed you guys, of course. But more than most other things."

Their caravan rolled on through the desert. Marcus slept, but the four friends were too wired to nap. Every time Six closed her eyes, she snapped awake in panic, worried that it had all been a dream and she'd wake up chained to the bed in Vegas.

"So what have you guys been up to?" Cass asked. "It's been four months. Surely you have some stories to tell about life in captivity."

"Nothing that you'd want to hear details about," Six said firmly.

But shortly thereafter, she found herself talking non-stop, as if she'd been holding her feelings in for so long that they had to come out somewhere.

"It was bar none the most horrible experience of my life. I'd rather get shot in the head and buried alive again ten times. I assure you I did nothing brave or noteworthy other than bleed and cry a lot. My back is scarred all to hell, my right hand got broken and healed funny so I can't use it as well, and I practically ended up addicted to Med-X, I was getting the shit kicked out of me so frequently. Don't ever call a legionary a motherfucker in front of Caesar, by the way. Turns out they take that personally."

"Inculta?" asked Vero quietly.

"Of fucking course," Arcade spat. "The biggest bastard in the Mojave. We should have gunned him down on the Strip when we had the chance."

"The worst thing, the very worst, is that I'm going to feel like I'm running for the rest of my life," Six said quietly. "Until he's dead. Because Marcus is right, he's just going to come after us when he has the chance. He's not the sort of person who takes losing well."

"So we'll stop the Legion and kill them all," Cass said. "It's them or us? Sounds perfect. I pick us."

"I'll rip his head off myself if it'll help you sleep at night, Six," Veronica said.

"No fucking way, Vero. You're under a restraining order to stay at least a hundred feet away from any legionary. We'll give you a sniper rifle if we need to."

Veronica glared at Six, wounded. "You don't trust me to hold my own?"

"That's not it. Explicit threats were made about what they'd do if they ever caught you. The Legion doesn't much care for 'deviants', except for Caesar's favorite profligate over here."

Everyone looked at Arcade, who shrugged. "What can I say? I got off easy compared to her. For no reason, really, other than that Caesar liked talking to me and my medical skills made me useful. I don't even have any cool scars that I can use to impress guys in bars. Other than mental scars, and they don't look good in a t-shirt."

"What if we made you one that said 'I survived months of captivity by the Legion and all I got was this lousy t-shirt and these constant horrifying nightmares?'" asked Six. "That might get you some attention."

"That might get me some assassins, you mean," he retorted. "Are you that tired of talking to me? I know you had a social circle of ... no one else in there, but I was starting to think you felt something for me. Maybe even ..." he dramatically put his hand over his heart. "Wuv. Twu wuv."

"I'm going to push you out of this caravan, Arcade. I'm going to push you out and you're going to have to walk to the beach to meet us, because you promised to make me daiquiris."

"Hey, back up a minute!" Cass exclaimed. "I don't get a restraining order? I don't merit threats? I feel slighted."

"I'm pretty sure if you didn't have a price on your head before, you will after shooting your way out of Vegas," Six said. "Luckily, you've got Marcus to take care of any legionary who glances your way. What's his deal, anyway? He doesn't seem like an objectively terrible human being. How'd he wind up in the Legion?"

"He was ten when his tribe was conquered in Colorado," Cass said. "It was join or die, and he didn't feel like dying. And he said he was always better with people skills than brute force, so he wound up in the Frumentarii. Weird to think about, but most of the legionaries don't join up thinking 'I really want to be a murderous, slaving asshole.' It's just a job to them, or a way to get fed regularly, or the only option other than death."

They all paused to reflect on this. "I don't think I'm quite ready to see them as human beings quite yet," Six said eventually.

"Can't blame you," Cass agreed. "Hell, the moment I saw him in his armor, my trigger finger got itchy, and I knew him. I think you guys get a lifetime pass on hating the Legion."

"Speak of the devil." Arcade glanced into the distance. "It looks like there's a roadblock ahead. Probably mined all to hell, too. Any suggestions?"

"I think I have an idea," Veronica said, pulling a grenade rifle from the back of the caravan and aiming it at the mines. She squeezed the trigger, and shortly thereafter a chain of loud explosions echoed through the desert.

"You can be kind of scary when you want to be, Vero," Cass said.

Hours (and a few more dead legionaries) later, they pulled up outside the heavily guarded and fortified Outpost. Marcus had woken up and changed into merc armor so they wouldn't raise suspicions at the NCR inspection point. Just a few more minutes, and they would leave the Mojave behind forever.

"Almost there," whispered Arcade to Six. "Remember that one question that you never let me ask? You said you thought it would jinx us."

"I actually don't remember, but I've been losing my mind lately. Refresh my memory."

"What's the first thing you're going to do when we get to the NCR?"

"Oh yeah, that one." Six smiled. "Luckily, I've got the perfect answer. Vero, can I borrow your knife?"

Veronica handed over a small switchblade. Everyone held her breath as Six brought it to her throat, then twisted, slicing through the leather collar she'd been forced to wear whenever she was out of the apartment. She'd almost forgotten about it, it had been a part of her routine for so long.

"Cass. Your lighter, if you would."

Cass silently passed Six her lighter. With great ceremony, Six held the collar to the lighter, where it dramatically failed to catch on fire.

After a few minutes, Veronica said, "I don't think leather burns. Unless you soak it in gasoline."

"God damn it. It was going to be so symbolic."

"I got this," Cass said, grabbing the knife and collar from Six and shredding it into several pieces. She tossed them from the side of the caravan. "Nothing more than trash, anyway. Hasta la vista and fuck you with a cactus."

The guards motioned them to come to the checkpoint, where they ran into an unexpected obstacle in the form of a cargo inspector. "Cassidy Caravans, huh? Never heard of you. You haven't been authorized to enter the NCR."

"We're traders," said Cass, irritably. "You saw us come through here a few weeks ago. I made fun of your shirt."

"I saw three of you and the driver come through," he said. "Who are the other two? And half of the stuff on your manifest isn't even here. What are you trying to pull? Are you smuggling weapons?"

Six growled under her breath. They'd come way too far to be defeated by the NCR's infamous bureaucracy. Time for drastic measures. And nothing was more drastic than the truth.

"I'm an escaped slave from Vegas," she said. "If you don't let us through, they'll come kill us. And I have intelligence that I plan on giving to the NCR once we're safely on the other side. Where you are preventing us from being."

"Bullshit. No one escapes from the Legion."

Six rolled her eyes and pulled her armor to the side, exposing her left shoulder. She pointed to the red X carved into the skin. "Is this sufficient, or do you want to see the rest of it? I've got enough injuries to spare." She shrugged the armor down further, showing a small part of the network of scars across her upper back. Even Veronica and Cass winced.

The inspector turned red and stammered something about getting his supervisor. Six recognized the look of a man whose problems had suddenly far exceeded his pay grade.

To cap it off, Marcus pulled out his vexillarius helmet and tossed it to the inspector. "Here, you might want this. We took it off a dead one. Don't worry, we have lots of others."

"Um. Okay. You can go on through. Let me radio the ranger station a few miles down the road, so they can talk to you more there."

The gates finally, blessedly, opened. And just like that, they were gone.

One Month Later

The view from the top of the Dam was gorgeous. It wasn't the most private place for a briefing session, but after months in the stuffy conference rooms of New Vegas, Vulpes felt glad to be back outside where he belonged.

"Six months, maybe seven, to solidify control here, according to Caesar," Lucius said. "Then we move west. We'll hit them at the border before they have time to recall all their troops from the surrounding areas. Once we breach the fortifications, it's smooth sailing to the coast. The cities will be considerably more difficult, but the civilians there are weak. They can't handle an extended siege."

"I can't wait to see the our flag over Shady Sands," Vulpes murmured. "It should be sublime. Our crowning achievement. Do you know I've never seen the ocean?"

"Well, you'll see it before we will. Your orders are to move in as soon as the Outpost is down, posing as just another refugee. I'm sure that the charming Mr. Fox will be able to do quite a bit of damage before the army even gets close." Lucius raised an eyebrow. "If you don't get distracted."

"Don't worry about me," he said dismissively. "Patience is a virtue, although I do look forward to dismembering the traitor Marcus as soon as possible. Work before pleasure, after all. The girl and her friends can stay on hold for a while. They're not going anywhere."

"Good. I was becoming concerned. You seemed obsessed, even for you."

"She's a marvelous plaything, but I'm sure I can find ways to occupy my … energies until we meet again." He cast a glance at the Fort, where a fetching brunette NCR sniper awaited him, bound and gagged in his tent. She would probably only last a few weeks at best, but not everything could be perfect.

"I'll head back to Vegas while you hold down the Fort," Lucius said, smiling at his pun. "We'll let you know when it's time."

"Vale, Lucius." The bearded man walked away. Vulpes sat down for a moment and tossed a rock into the churning water. Lucius had a point. He had become intensely entangled with the Courier, and it had clouded his judgment in Vegas. He saw things more clearly now. He would still have her, of course, possess her, make her cry and beg and shudder beneath him every night for the rest of her life. But he could wait for that. As he had told her, they had all the time in the world.