Castillo opened the small suitcase one of House’s Securitrons left outside his door. It was pre-war, but the dank, musky smell of most pre-war cases was absent. Instead, opening the case, a pop of fresh, flowery scents wafted past him. Inside, a set of clean clothes was neatly folded, a cardstock note sitting atop the heap; [i]“For Mr. Castillo, may they see the Eastern shore and all it’s secrets. --Tenpenny”[/i]. 

Laying the clothes out on his bed, he separated the case’s contents. A khaki button up, with reinforced breast pockets, deep blue, heavy duty denim utility jeans, a brand new pair of specialty tanned New Reno Brahmin skin trail boots, a variety of patterned bandanas, and a brown Brahmin skin vest. Not bad. He was impressed with Tenpenny’s ability to match his personal style. 

Then again, his style wasn’t exactly uncommon among the wastes. 

Castillo dressed, finishing off his outfit with the only remnant of his pre-rescue clothing--a dirty, stained, beaten cowboy hat. It’s wear clashed with the freshness of his new outfit, though that wasn’t something that would last long, Castillo assumed. 

As he finished rolling up the sleeves of the khaki button up, he heard a knock at the door. 

“Yeah?” He called out. 

“May I come in?” A female voice called. Castillo’s ears perked at that. 

“Only so long as you’re as pretty as you sound.” Castillo replied. 

The door opened, and Hayley Clarke entered his room. She wore a professional, yet forced smile on her face. 

“I’d like to think I am.” She said, grinning and offering her hand to Castillo. “I’m also twice as smart as my age suggests, so don’t get cute with me Mr. Castillo. I’ve met enough cliche, womanizing wasteland types in my day, and to be honest, it’s gotten a bit boring. Hayley Clarke.” 

“Pleasure. Carter Castillo.” Carter shook her hand, his voice evening out into a tone more appropriate to business. “Apologies miss, old habits and all.” 

“Not a problem. I just like setting boundaries. Don’t worry, I can have fun too though. Anyway, I’m assuming Tenpenny told you about me?” Hayley said, looking up to meet the man’s eyes. 

“Yep. You’re the...how’d he put it...brilliant scientist who conquered the lost old world tech? Basically the one who’s gonna breathe life back into those rails, yeah?” 

“Yeah that’s the gist of it. I’d like to be more modest about the brilliant scientist thing but….well, he’s right.” She accented the punch of her statement with a cocky smile. 

“Well, my guess is we’re gonna get out there and get all kindsa killed. But so long as the rails roll, I’ll do what I can to keep you breathing and that caravan rolling.” Castillo said, hoping to bring the young woman back to reality. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much. We’ve assembled a pretty...capable team. Speaking of which, we’re going to be doing introductions and pitching the trip soon. We’ve got people meeting upstairs in House’s suite. Several are already there. I’m going up to join and get people settled...and make sure no one kills anyone else. Or breaks anything, House is kind of weird about keeping things nice. Join me?” She asked, her voice now bright and inviting. 

Castillo smiled a bit, happy the girl seemed a little more down to earth than the enigmatic, aristocratic Tenpenny. 

“After you.” Castillo said, tightening his gun belt as he followed her out the door. 

********

“Lordy…” Castillo said to himself, entering with Hayley from a concealed stairwell below House’s elevator balcony. Looking up, he could see several wasteland wanderer types, a tribal, an NCR trooper who might be dead, and...a [i]goddamn Nightkin?[/i] 

“I probably should have left a chaperone.” Hayley said, amused. 

“I signed on for an expedition not a goddamn traveling circus.” Castillo shot, unpleased with what was happening above him. “What the hell kind of team is Tenpenny putting together?”

“A diverse one. And a skilled one. Not everyone in the Mojave with useful skills is a light skinned human with a gravelly voice and stubbly chin.” She shot back. “That Nightkin is one of the best mechanics I’ve ever met. And that fella in the dark glasses up there? He’s like a damn wizard with computers, advanced tech, and he can blow your body apart in more ways than I feel comfortable describing. The tribal? They’re connected to the land. Important for when we’re travelling across long stretches of unexplored waste. Del, that fella that looks like he’s lived two lifetimes under the high noon sun, one of the best and most effective mercenaries we could find information on. That’s the man you want watching your back.” Hayley paused. “Not too sure about the others...but I’m sure there’s a reason they’re here too.” 

“Alright, alright, claws back in kitty. I gotcha.” Castillo said, rolling his eyes. “You gonna introduce me?” 

The group assembled atop the balcony were eating, talking, roughhousing...sort of like a strange post apocalyptic frat party. From what Hayley and Castillo could tell, no one had even noticed them enter from below. Hayley stuck two fingers in her mouth, and blew a piercing whistle. 

“Alright ya’ll lets calm the fuck down, don’t need anyone dying before we start rolling.” She said, throwing a bit of a wastelander’s accent into her voice.

 “I’m Hayley Clarke, and I’ll be joining you on the job, should you choose to accept. Some of you already know me….yeah, hey there Scrappy, I see you buddy, you can stop waving now….and some of you don’t. You’ll learn who I am in due time. This fella next to me is the field boss of the job. Some of you might know him, or at least know of him--this is Carter Castillo, the guy who lead a successful caravan to the Tijuana Ruins and….survived...the Black Rock incident. He’s the caravan boss for this trip. Get to know him, cause ya’ll are gonna be together for a long time.” Hayley motioned to Castillo, giving him the floor. 

Castillo shrugged, and gave a slight salute. 

“It’ll be good dyin’ with ya.” He said, turning away to grab a glass of water and a biscuit. He then wandered to an array of seats situated in front of a massive computer screen, took a seat, and gnawed at his food. 

“That was inspiring.” Hayley’s voice was scornful. 

“You want to inspire, I hear there’s a preacher here that marries people dressed like a King’s gang member. Kimball inspired people. Caesar inspired people. I’m a businessman, miss. I get paid to complete jobs, not to win hearts and minds.” Castillo said, turning around in his seat to take a look at the assembled masses. “Plus I don’t think the notion’a death is gonna ruin too many’a these bastards’ days anyway.” 

“Deep shit right there.” Hayley said, crossing her arms across her olive top. “Just don’t be a dick, ok? It’s gonna be rough enough getting to know each other, last thing I need is the team thinking the guy leading them into the unknown is a washed up, suicidal Brahmin jockey.” 

“That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever called me.” Castillo said, leaning back in his seat. 

“Ass…” Hayley muttered, facing the balcony. 

“Alright ya’ll. We got a few more coming, then Tenpenny’ll be out to discuss the job details with everyone. Feel free to eat what’s out, we got some nice beer, wine, sodas and water available upstairs and down.” She said, motioning to the platters of food and drink. “Oh, and quit throwing fucking grenades around, you sun fried psychopaths!”