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[Color=red]Sarah Sinclair[/color] [/center] 

With a disapproving and almost childish frown, Sarah returned her curved machete to it's scorched leather sheath at her hip as she allowed herself to be surrounded by the NCR remnants. She'd been given a census on the garrison of Foxtrot, and if these men and women were all that remained, she'd have to admit that the Legion raid had been successful, to an extent. As the negative expression faded from her face, Sinclair swept her ashen brown hair away from her brows and nodded to the two men she had been dispatched to recruit, before proceeding to make a series of hand gestures directed at Brosnovic, with Virgil seeming to commence a scan of her hands as she did so. [color=red]"I am here on behalf of the Brotherhood and NCR coalition, under direct orders from Elder Maxson at the request of the council. I've been tasked with the gathering and formation of an elite team. Your President Kimball and Colonel Stanstead have seen to it that the two of you should no longer be assigned to this garrison. I have the order in writing here."[/color] She had signed, with Virgil translating the movements into English as she did so. Before reaching into her satchel and pulling forth the PIP-pad which had been bestowed upon her by Arthur Maxson. 

[color=red]"As for why you, Mr Rivers. Your dossier informed those in the know within the Brotherhood that you have had extensive...shall we say, experience? With the Legion. This will be invaluable for the mission."[/color] Virgil had stated, seemingly of his own accord as Sarah's hands were otherwise occupied with revealing the reassignment order to the two men. This prompted a wry grin from the grizzled Albert, as he exhaled a plume of smoke one would expect from a combustion engine. Not a cigar. [color=violet]"Well now ain't that just sweet, but what about me. I ain't sure if ya noticed. But I'm a long ways past my prime. What'cha want with stiff old board such as meself?"[/color] Albert had joked as he threw the remnants of his cigar to the ground, grinding it out with the heel of his cowboy boot. Prompting a jingle from the rusted spur at it's back. 

Sarah simply looked at the man, her expression changing from neutral, to one that screamed it's own accusation. Virgil didn't speak any further, instead merely hovering closer to it's master. [color=violet]"Oh, so yer lot knows about [i]that[/i] huh? Well. Guess there ain't much more needin' to be said. Raven, we oughtta pack'r shit. I'd wager this is gonna be a long trip.[/color]