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[center][h3][i]Now[/i][/h3][/center]

He approached Camp Foxtrot cautiously and off the main paths to it, keeping eyes and ears out for local wildlife; he came and went from the NCR outposts somewhat regularly, trading on his ‘friendly’ reputation with the NCR to use them as safe spots to rest. That said, it’d been some time since he’d stopped at Foxtrot and given the state of the Mojave at the moment he couldn’t say for certain whether or not the station was still under NCR control.

His musings were interrupted two fold in a matter of moments; first was the distant sound of a [i]verti-bird[/i] of all things, something he hadn’t heard in years, but the second and much more troubling was the much closer ‘cough’ and explosion of a missile launcher being fired. A large outcropping of rock still blocking his line of sight to the camp, he rushed forwards to get a clear view.

[color=54C571]”Fan-fucking-tastic..”[/color] He growled, finally getting eyes on the scene. A Legion Remnant was hitting the camp hard, the earlier explosion must have been them blowing the gate open. Part of him was [i]really[/i] tempted to just take a knee where he was and start shooting; the range was not too long and he was a good enough shot that missing would be tough…but there were enough asshole that getting all of them before he got rushed wasn’t a given, and while he was tough in a a close up fight, those weren’t odds he wanted to test.

Overhead the sound of the vertibird got louder, punctuated rifle fire; whoever was up top was trying to provide air cover. Watching the aircraft start to circle, he heard another missile fire and flinched as the smoke trail converged on it, only to let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as the shot managed to sail clean through the ‘birds open doors.

Looking back along its path, he saw that the shot had actually come from the top of the outcropping he was up against. From there he set to work; dropping his pack, he pulled out his FC adapter and strapped it to his waist before popping out the seated MFC and plugging in the adapter. Weapon ready, he started to climb, banking on the sounds of the fighting covering the noise of his assent. Now was a time for speed, not stealth.

Pre-War he’d never been one for rock climbing, it seemed like a damned foolish way to die, but since then circumstances had forced his hands (and feet) into accepting such a necessity. Now he scrambled up the rocks and through the brush, dried branches and thorns picking at him, but he was too busy to pay them much mind.

Reaching the top, he spotted the backs of two legionaries’ heads, obviously crouched down and from what he could tell by their body language and movement, they were having trouble with the launcher. Standing for a clearer shot, he shot the one actually holding the launcher in the back of his head. At this close a range it was an easy target and he fired a couple shots in quick succession, to burn through the first man’s helmet. As he pitched forwards, dead, the second leapt to his feet in surprise, he spun towards Sam; but before he could do much else, Sam burned him down with three to the chest.

With the pair dead, Sam took up their position, and after a moment of getting him bearings on the camp below, he opened fire. Tracking across the camp he started to target anyone of authority or those with significant weapons.