Part 20: Criminal Enterprises

Update 20: Criminal Enterprises



With fresh claw-marks on our bumper we pulled into New Reno right next to Jules' corner. After the last time he wasn't likely to let someone walk off with our car, and he claimed to know the city… both where we could get weapons, and about the families.



"Not very good with names, are they?"

"You got that right. They used to be slaves here, but they turned the tables and built their own empire on Jet. Own the Desperado casino just down the street, biggest supply of Jet in New Reno.

"Wait, why do they have the biggest supply of Jet?"

"They got the factor, the maker, and the distribution setup. Ver-tic-al integration."

"I have no idea what you mean."



"Really? Now that might be worth looking into…what about the Salvatores?"



"We not be wantin' trouble nowhere, man. But why not there?"

"Ain't nobody screw with the Salvatores. They got light pistols that shoot light and they'll cut a man in half. Clean burn, just like that."

"They shoot light? Do they call the pilots 'laser pistols?'"



"By 'laser pistols,' Jules, I mean pistols that emit beams of coherent light. A beam of sufficient wattage - say, several megawatts - could do considerable damage if focused on a target for a few seconds, producing the effect you've described."

"I think listening to you just gave me an aneurism. I don't even know what half of those words mean. How the hell did you learn that out in a tribal village?"

"We only had one science book, and it was about lasers. Anyway, I've got business with a guy named Bishop. What do you know about him?"



"Where's his territory?"

"He hangs out at the Shark Club up on 2nd Street. He's got guards all over the place, so don't go in there unless you got real business. And keep yer business away from his wife. AND his daughter."

"First I'll see his wife and daughter, then I'll see if I want to keep my 'business' to myself. Who's left?"



"Wait, how many of them are we talking about here?"

"Almost twenty. Mean as spit and each of them uglier than the next. They handle alcohol and guns, hang out north of 2nd Street."

"I think they sound like my kind of people."



Right across the street was a place that shared a logo with the magazine I'd given over to Typhon in Broken Hills. The owner and madam of the place said that before the war the Cat's Paw was a publisher of pornographic materials, making my magazines valuable antiques as well as good bathroom reading. She promised me a reward if I could bring her 10, and then offered me a few other things.



I didn't know what half of them were, but they all sounded pretty interesting. I just didn't want to have my friends waiting outside while I investigated them.



Instead we went right down the street to the Desperado to see what we could find out about the Mordinos.



Unfortunately, Little Jesus wouldn't even give us the time of day, since he said I didn't look very strong. He was the kind of guy who didn't see anything but muscles when he looked for strength.



I knew that if I wanted to get on the inside with the Mordinos I was going to need to do something to make them recognize me. Down the hall I found something that looked like it might be the answer… if I made a name for myself as a boxer, that would probably get them to let me in the door.



"Wait, are you talking to the mutant behind me? Who are you?"

"Wha… you ain't HEARD of me? Stuart. Stuart Little? Biggest agent in all of Reno? Someone's done you a disservice not telling you about me, pal. Got a name?"

"I'm Luke, I'm looking to box. Can you help me out?"

"You wanna BOX? Uh…aright, letm e level with you, kid. You just don't look like you have the frame for it."

"Give me a chance, Stuart. I'm tougher than I look."

"And he smarter than he looks, too. Mebbe not for long if he wants to let people punch him in the head, though."



And that's how I ended up stripped down to my Vault suit while a musclebound titan bore down on me… so I fixed my eyes on his face and let it go with my best right hook, just like John Sullivan had showed me.



And just like that, it was over. The lights went out, and he crashed to the floor… completely still. I'd just killed my first man in the ring. Stuart started calling me Ironhand Luke, and pretty soon it spread throughout the boxing community. I wasn't going back in there until I had a bigger edge, since I figured that if I'd accidentally killed someone in my first fight the real professionals would probably do the same thing to me.

Better Criticals + Called Shot to the Head + Decent Luck = instant death crit. As a bonus, you get experience for killing them as well as experience for winning the match.



Instead, we walked down the street to the Shark Club to pay a visit on John Bishop. The Mordinos were going to have to wait a little bit, and with the Bishop I at least had his briefcase to get me in the door.



There wasn't an overgrown man-child to tell me that I was too much of a wimp to come in, but there were a couple of sharp eyed bodyguards who checked to make sure the suitcase was an expected delivery before giving me the go ahead to head upstairs.



Before doing that, though, I'd seen something else worth investigating. Bishop's daughter, Angela, was standing there in the hallway looking for someone to do. She was pretty in a "too much eyeliner and makeup to piss off daddy" kind of way, and it'd been a long time since that bathhouse.



She snuck us up a side stairway and tried to get me to try some Jet. She was too intent on her own high to notice that I wasn't partaking.



After she passed out I went ahead and helped myself to everything of value in her room and safe.



Somehow John Bishop didn't find anything strange about the fact that I came from inside of his house to deliver his briefcase. Somehow I don't think he would have been as welcoming if I hadn't already told the guards I was coming, even if I had the briefcase in hand.



John Bishop liked to talk. And talk. And talk. Among the gems buried in his bullshit was the fact that Moore was actually from the New California Republic, although Bishop didn't seem too fond of them overall.



Once he wound down I asked for some work, and he offered me a job killing one of the senior government officials in the NCR… an old guy named Westin. Poor bastard. If he'd known what he was in for, he might have welcomed it.



For whatever reason, he didn't want it to look like an actual contract killing… which was fine for me, because I had no intention of murdering an old man. I'd already killed enough people to know when I could and couldn't bring myself to kill someone.



And killing an old man with a bad heart sounded about as low as it would be possible to go. I told him I'd take the job, though, since my chances of walking out of there alive seemed to depend on it.



I wasn't ready to go quite yet, though. An older, blonder version of Angela was in a room downstairs. We got to talking about the Bishops and their role in New Reno, which led pretty quickly to the topic of family and the fact that she had a daughter. I tried to pretend ignorance, but...



"The fuck's a condom?"



One thing led to another, and she led me up yet another hidden stairway to the bedrooms on the third floor. I was starting to wonder just who many damn stairways this building had.



I've done some weird shit in my time, but sleeping with a married woman immediately after her daughter while her husband was in the next room is still in the top 10.



She passed out almost immediately afterward, and without the Jet crash as an excuse I had to wonder if it wasn't just me. I didn't want to ask any of the other guys, though, because if it was just me they'd probably be overjoyed to say so.



So instead, I took full advantage of the fact that she talked in her sleep and had evidently repeated her safe combination to herself a number of times.



Luckily Bishop was dumber than a bag of hammers, or I wouldn't have gotten away with it twice. Even he was going to get suspicious at some point, though, so it was time to make myself scarce and see about the other two families in New Reno.