[center] [i]Somewhere, deep within the windswept landscape of Post-War California, an old radio crackles to life.


“Thank you for meeting with me, sir. I’m glad you’ve come round to our way of thinking.” 


“I’ll admit it took some persuasion, but I truly believe you and your men have the right of things; the right vision for America.” 


“That’s all we ever wanted, sir. What’s best for the people of the wasteland.” 


“And you think Hamilton is the right way to go about it?” 


“The only way, sir.” 


“Very well. This is everything my people could find about 93. I hope it proves useful.” 


“I’m sure that it will...Mister President.”  [/i] [/center]


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George and Oliver Fedorov hadn’t been very close in recent years. George had gone and decided life was best spent mooching off others and drifting from place-to-place, whereas Oliver had become the leader of The Deathless; one of New Reno’s most prominent gangs. George spent all his caps on Golden Globes vids and jet, whereas Oliver ran arms deals and stole weapons from the NCR. George was generally hated and looked down upon, whereas Oliver was both feared and respected by the people of New Reno. 


But at the end of the day, George was still Oliver’s brother. And when Redding Schmidt killed George over a dispute about a dead hooker, Oliver decided it was time to send a very clear message that the Fedorov’s were not to be fucked with. 


Fifteen heavily armed mercenaries made their way down the neon-lit streets of New Reno on that particular night. They were some of the deadliest members of a gang once known as “The Fiends”, having moved West after the death of Motor-Runner. Every raider was garbed from head-to-toe in armour fashioned from old belts and bits of leather, and they were armed with state-of-the-art weaponry that had been looted from a Gun Runner caravan. 


The three toughest and meanest of the group acted as its leaders. They were… 




Warren ‘The Wretch’- a vicious bastard with sharp teeth and a sharper eye. He wielded a submachine gun, and tallied each of his kills by marking them on his flesh. 


Sid ‘The Ogre’- A giant of a man, built like a super mutant, with cold eyes and a double-barrel 
shotgun in his hands.


And finally 


Heartless Teresa Hoyle- the most vicious bitch west of Hoover Dam. She liked to send her enemies out in a blaze of glory with her flamethrower, or stick them with her machete when they got too close. 


Folks were quick to get off the streets when they saw the Fiends coming their way, and it wasn't long before the usually bawdy nightlife had pretty much flittered away. 


“I can already fucking taste the blood,” Teresa grinned , letting out a snorty cackle“I’m gonna light this join up like it's the Great War, come again.” 


“We’re only getting paid to take care of Schmidt.” Warren reminded her, grumbling slightly. 


“Sure, sure,” Teresa nodded “anything else is just for fun.” 


The Fiends made their way up to the Desperado, where two of Donna Regina’s most intimidating thugs stood guard. 


“We’re not too keen on tribals.” One of the big men muttered, peering down at the raiders from beneath his black chilby. 


Sid blew two holes in his chest, painting the Desperado sign red. When the other man reached for his gun, Warren planted a bullet between his eyes, letting his corpse slide slowly down to the ground, a red smear splattered against the wall behind him. 


Teresa was the first to head inside, leaping through the doors, and tumbling into the Desperado. She decided her entrance wasn't quite dramatic enough, and proceeded to grab hold of a pool cue from one of the tables, and beat a man over the back of the head with it. 


“Listen up, cocksuckers!” She shrieked, giddy with bloodlust “which one of you cumstains is Redding Schmidt?!”