Deckard draws the rifle bolt back and ejects the spent round. He slaps a fresh bullet into the chamber and lines up his iron sights with the new woman's head, calmly speaking into his radio,<span style="color: #bf0040">“Got you covered...”</span><br/><br/>An instant later, Vaz creeps up behind him, a Tec-9 in hand. He clears his throat to get Deckard's attention, and as the gunslinger turns, he sees the machine pistol aimed at his chest. But Vaz holds his fire, raising his free hand up in a calming gesture. Deckard unconsciously dips for his knife, but Vaz tells him calmly, “Easy there, friend. Don't do anything stupid now. Call your friend. Tell him to holster his weapon.”<br/><br/>Gritting his teeth, Deckard slowly speaks into his comm-link.<span style="color: #bf0040">“I've got company up here...”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #336666">“Stand down, Deck.”</span><br/><br/>Slowly, Deckard relaxes his posture and eyeballs Vaz intently. Nodding, Vaz shouts down from the rooftop, “We're all good up here, Viv!”<br/><br/>Viv speaks to the people behind the building.<span style="color: #8080ff">“You can come out now. Nobody's gonna hurt your friend if we're all smart about this.”</span><br/><br/>Cautiously, Tyler steps out from cover, gesturing for Mariel and the others to stay back. As a sign of good will, he places the Peacemaker back in its holster and carefully moves into view with his hands raised.<span style="color: #336666">“Suppose I should thank you for the help.”</span><br/><br/>Viv smirked.<span style="color: #8080ff">“I suppose you should.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #336666">“Can't say I appreciate you holding my friend hostage.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“That all depends on you and me.”</span>Viv remarks, sizing the gunslinger up. Upon closer inspection she can see his bearing and powerful build. He moves confidently despite his caution, his eyes betraying no hint of apprehension. He's clearly intelligent and calculating – the kind of man who with even casual glances assesses his surroundings and plans for dozens of scenarios in his head. She recalls meeting only one such man before: a man who carried a sword very much like the one strapped to this man's back.<br/><br/>With a quick scan of the carnage around them, the man quips,<span style="color: #336666">“Seems you had business with these people.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“Old business.”</span>Viv replied, gently nudging Lester's corpse with her boot.<span style="color: #8080ff">“There's history here. You, on the other hand, I'm guessing are with the railroad.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #336666">“How about you cut my friend loose and we can talk about it.”</span><br/><br/>She stares into his eyes for a moment. Though it's clear that the man before her is dangerous, something about him tells her that he's a man of honor. An old-fashioned kind – something rare in these parts. Looking up at the rooftop, she calls out to her man,<span style="color: #8080ff">“Lower your gun, Vaz.”</span><br/><br/>Hesitantly, Vaz obeys. Deckard grins and feels the sudden urge to jump the man who got the drop on him, but stops himself as he thinks better of it. No need to escalate the situation unnecessarily. After a lingering stare down, the pair of men on the rooftop look back at their comrades on the street.<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“Satisfied?”</span>Viv asks.<br/><br/>Tyler nods. He begins to pace, leading with his shoulders as he moves. Powerful strides, yet agile. It'd take a mountain of a man to knock him off his feet.<span style="color: #336666">“I know you've gotta do right by your people, but these raids on the railroad? They can't happen anymore.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“Wasn't my crew that was hitting the train.”</span>Viv replies.<span style="color: #8080ff">“We've got no beef with Hale. But my people still gotta eat. If we need to hit a convoy to do that, well... You see where I'm going with this.”</span><br/><br/>Suddenly, Mariel steps out from behind cover and speaks up.<span style="color: pink">“I might have a solution to that...”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“And you are...?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Mariel Chamberland, chief engineer for the Hale Corporation.”</span>Mariel steps over to the dead raider that had taken her gun and pries it from his waistband. Dusting the weapon off, she places it back in its holster on her hip.<span style="color: pink">“We're in the process of laying new track along the old route west. Your friends here aren't the only bandits in the region. And then there's mutants, skin eaters... Pretty much any kind of nasty you can think of from here to the coast.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“You need muscle.”</span>Viv adds, folding her arms in thought.<span style="color: #8080ff">“I don't think my boys will want to put on uniforms and follow orders from Hale... No offense.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Technically, you'd be independent contractors. Like Tyler and Deckard here...”</span><br/><br/>Suddenly, Viv looks alarmed, as if the names themselves have hit her like a pair of bullets. Tyler notices her change in countenance and arches a brow, then catches her staring at the sword on his back. There's a look of recognition there – a look of fear. And for a brief instant, it seems as though she has seen a ghost.<br/><br/>Clearing her throat, she uneasily replies,<span style="color: #8080ff">“We... gotta go. Storm's coming.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“But--”</span><br/><br/>Before Mariel can finish, Viv waves her hand in a circle and hops aboard her motorcycle. Her companions follow suit. On the rooftop, Vaz gives Deckard a tiny salute before hopping down from the building, landing on a nearby closed dumpster, and rolling off onto the ground – all in what looks like a single, fluid motion. It's an impressive display of acrobatics, and Deckard watches the man mount his motorcycle with similar speed and grace.<br/><br/>As Tyler stands there, he locks eyes with Viv for a brief instant. Something rattled her back there – to the point where her calm and collected demeanor seemed to fall apart almost instantaneously. As they ride away, Tyler is left to ponder the significance of her hasty retreat. There is more to this woman than meets the eye.<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: white;background:white;"/></div><br/><br/>Viv warms her hands by the fire. Gazing deep into the pit of flames, she is lost in thought. In one horrifying instant, the mystery behind the gunslingers and their talent had been revealed, and with it, a ghost from her past. Jarrett has sensed this since they left. “What was that back there, boss?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“Just old ghosts, Jarrett.”</span>She stabs at the fire and continues to look distant.<br/><br/>“Boss?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“It was about five, maybe six years ago. Back when I was running with Lester. It was one of the first runs I'd ever led and it was going so smoothly... We'd just rolled this caravan headed for the Rockies. Ghosted all the guards, tied up the civvies. It was gift-wrapped. Then, out of nowhere, this  guy... no... this <span style="font-style: italic">thing</span> comes out of the shadows. I swear, the way he moved...”</span>She swallows, feeling her mouth go dry.<span style="color: #8080ff">“It didn't last long. There were six of us including me, and <span style="font-style: italic">I</span> was the only one he spared.”</span><br/><br/>“Spared?”<br/><br/>Viv nods.<span style="color: #8080ff">“I mean that in the most literal way, Jarrett. When I saw that sword coming at me, I thought I was done for. But he stopped just short of my neck. He stopped... and he looked at me. He didn't say anything. He just walked away.”</span><br/><br/>“Jesus...” Jarrett utters, bewildered by the story.<br/><br/>Viv pokes at the fire and continues.<span style="color: #8080ff">“Lester gave me a hell of a beating for that failure. But when I was healed up, he led the charge into town. We didn't spare anyone... not in the long run, anyway. The ones we kept alive, we put the screws to them for days... We got three names out of that: Tyler Bellford, Deckard Canon, and Damien Wolf.”</span><br/><br/>“Tyler and Deckard...” Jarrett looks wide-eyed. “You mean those two...?”<br/><br/>Vivian nods, shuddering visibly.<span style="color: #8080ff">“I asked around after that. Any place I went, anyone who know anything... But it was campfire stories. Boogie man stuff, you know? I mean, the things they said about them, you wouldn't even believe it if I told you.”</span><br/><br/>“Did you ever find out where that third guy went? That Wolf guy?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“Everything I heard said he operated out west, out by New Boise. We sent a few scouts to find him, but... Well, they never came back. After a while, Lester started thinking I'd just botched the job and made the rest up from old stories I'd heard.”</span>She looks down, scoffing.<span style="color: #8080ff">“That was grounds for another beating. But I'll never forget that sword, Jarrett. Even after all these years, I can see it like it's been branded into my skull.”</span><br/><br/>“What about the other two? If they're working for Hale...”<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080ff">“If they're working for Hale, we've got way bigger problems.”</span>