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Walking into the wolves den


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A courier drops off a sealed envelope to the radio station, addressed to Jericho. The letter is written on a piece of post war pressed paper, made of pieces of wood fiber pressed together to make crude sheets.

 

Written in flowing cursive, probably with a pre war fountain pen, is the following

 

Jericho,

Heard you on the radio.

Same bullshit, huh?

Time to meet. Tomorrow.

Raiders rock. Come alone.

Darling

 

-the next day-

 

Darling sits in a tattered lounge chair, waiting for her men to escort Jericho to her. She crosses her legs, tapping the steel toe of her boot against the worn coffee table. She eyes an auto injector of Psycho tucked into a pouch on her armor. She had her men make sure Jericho was disarmed, but if it came down to hand to hand, there was no way she could take him. Not without a little shot, then she could beat him unconscious. Darling chuckles under her breath, smirking with anticipation.

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Jericho figured this would happen. He knew Darling listened to his radio and it wasn't the first time she had requested his presence but it was the first time she requested he be disarmed, which was definitely peculiar. Sure, the toy soldiers found his ankle pistol and piano wire but they missed the small thing of Jet hidden in a cuff pocket. If he knew Darling he knew she'd have Pyscho lying around and he wasn't about to let her get that edge on him.

The DJ pushed the hand of a raider from his shoulder, shoving the guy to the side before shooting him daggers with his eyes.  "Watch yourself or I'll learn where you sleep," Jericho spat at the raider before pushing past the other two and into Darling's office. The ride over was obnoxious to say the least and the walk between their caravan and her "abode" was droll. Some of the raiders recognized him from his time among them or previous visits but most kept to their business, creating a white noise of busy hands and shouts. The quiet of Darling's place was at the least welcoming. Sure beat being out there with her goons. 

Jericho wore his best, as usual. The reinforced mesh three piece suit of stark white and his flowing silver hair brought back into one large braid. Steel toed onyx dress shoes clicked against her hard wood floor, hands clasped behind his back as he began to pace the setting, like a cat in new territory. His sharp eyes scanned the room before finally resting upon Darling's nonchalant silhouette.

Having had noted his exits and anything he might need to use in a pinch, Jericho began to speak. 

"Depriving a man of his weapons, Darling? That's a new low for you," Jericho said with a smirk as he approached her. 

Edited by M. Valtore
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"Jericho. You are lucky I didn't have them take your clothes too." She says in a low voice. Darling has a distinct voice, gravelly and flat, a reminder that she had almost been strangled to death. 

Her yellow eyes slowly size up Jericho, still tough as ever. But he was being cautious, as he knew that Darling had home field advantage. She gestures for him to have a seat across from her. 

"Come. Time for businesses." She growls

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"Oh you'd like that, yeah?" Jericho stopped mid-stride, leg held out mid-air, and he snapped his head back to Darling. Groomed eyebrows quirked up in surprise at Darling's choice of words before promptly placing himself across from her.  "Well aren't we full of surprises today!"

He leaned back into his seat as he propped a leg upon her table. With his arms stretched out across the chairs arch he finally gave the appearance of relaxing. 

"What do you want, Darling." He groaned. 

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Darling pops open a metal box on the coffee table, which contains a tin of Mentats, a few jet inhalers, and a syringe of med-x. She slides the box across the table, bumping it against his shoe. She gestures for him to use whatever he wished. 

"Gateport. I need a way in. You will provide one." She grumbles as she leans back, never averting her gaze from him. Not necessarily looking him in the eye, but watching his movements closely.

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His ex-employer's offer was a bit confusing. Just what exactly did she think she was getting at trying to offer him HER drugs? What, some sort of appeasement? It would be nice to indulge with Darling once more and Jericho did consider it but he wasn't about to start celebrating early. "Later," Jericho assured as he tapped the container shut with his foot.

When she finally spoke Jericho stared at Darling wide-eyed before trying to blink away his utter shock. The sight before him was familiar; Darling casually wielding her dominance. It amazed the DJ how a beauty like Darling could be so strong yet so arrogant and her eyes always seemed so cold to Jericho. Even now they were unflinching despite the years that sat between the two.

"You've never been good at the business talks, have you Darling?" Jericho began with a chuckle. "Listen, if you wan't to do business with someone, you should know you ought to explain your intent first." He leaned forward, closing the distance between the two. 

"I've tried to get you and your toy soldiers to play 'friends' with Gateport but you seem to have ignored that and now you ask for passage into Gateport? Ha!" Jericho slapped his knee with his palm as he gave an exaggerated laugh. He fell back into the chair, shacking his head as he wheezed a few more laughs out of himself. "Riddle me this, Darling. Why the hell do you want in to Gateport?"

Jericho raised his gloved index finger. "And why the hell would I even consider letting you," Jericho continued, pointing his finger at Darling. "Of all people, in? You do know I'm supposed to Protect that place, right?" He rested his arms on the chair again, curious to see what it is she could say to convince him.
 

Edited by M. Valtore
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Darling rolls her eyes as Jericho blabber on and on. She detested his personality, such an optimist, always hoping for the best. She tapped the armrest of her chair until his theatrics were over. She waited a moment, just to be sure he wasn't going to launch into another rant.

"The artillery guns we found, almost repaired. The Brotherhood, they have what I need. My men will relieve them of it, how much blood must be spilled is up to you. As soon as my artillery works, our business in Texas is over. The Devil's Brigade will leave." She says softly, her glare fixed on him.

"How many more need to die, Jericho? How many more of your Pathfinders need to be thrown in the flames? Just give me what I want." She says coldly, her eyes moving to meet his, a tense mood filling the room.

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  • 2 weeks later...

'What is she doing?' he thought, 'she just gave away the valuable information of her possessing artillery. Why would she give that away? What, did my Pathfinders get caught on the way out here? She has to know I wouldn't let her fire another time. There's no way. . .Unless, she's telling me this because they are almost repaired. Unless she's telling me this because she fucking found them! SHIT. This isn't a bluff. Jericho she isn't bluffing. Your backup is probably gone man, and by the time you get back and send word she'll have blown everything away. . .Jesus Christ Jericho. That's if she even lets you get back.' Jericho winced and although subtle, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed as his fingers twitching against the chairs arm. The moment was only a second, if not less, and Jericho's composure was back with him. His brow furrowed as his now eyes fixed onto Darling's.

"You can fire once, but my Pathfinders won't give your spitfuck's the opportunity to fire a second shot." Fire crept up into his words now. "You think your men are the only ones out here? Go on Darling. Try it."

 


 


 

Edited by M. Valtore
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"Enough. Your bravado has always been your weakness. I need one barrage to deliver what I must, and with prevailing winds my men should be able to stroll across the bridge in a few days time. Do not make me waste what stockpile I have on that hemorrhoid on the coast. Give me a way in. No blood, unless the Brotherhood of Steel gets in our way. Think it over." She states coldly, her eyes unmoving. Darling resumes tapping her boot against the coffee table, waiting patiently for the answer she desires.

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"Fuck!" Jericho slammed his fist against the chair's arm before slumping back into it. His face was pulled back into the painful grimace of defeat. Darling was right, it didn't matter how much of a fight they put up, just one surprise barrage would be enough to have the entire city fighting an uphill battle for its entirety. Jericho adverted his gaze, his face dropped ever so slightly, like Darling at sapped the fight right out of him. "Just. . .tell me what you want." Jericho spoke through clenched teeth. "And I'll get you it." 

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