[color=f7941d][u][b]Veteran Ranger Richard Holmes - Fort Gulf - Afternoon, October 17th[/b][/u][/color]

Richard carefully rolled another cigarette and offered it to Gloriana as they waited. The last of SSG Keyes' squad was assembled behind them and were being briefed about the escort. The sun was high and beamed down hot on the soldiers gathered before the gates of the fort. There was a slight breeze but not enough to keep the sweat away and Richard wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his oil slick duster before returning the wide-brimmed hat to his head. Between him and Gloriana was their prisoner. A young man with his arms ahead of him and bound together at the wrists. Two leads branched out from his bindings, one of them held by Richard, the other by Gloriana. Ahead of them were two of her Rough Riders who would serve as forward scouts for the escort. Richard looked down at the young man, a linen hood made from a sack covered his head and eyes. He wore a jumpsuit with the sleeves of the forearms cut off and the zipper removed. He had been granted a pair of boots and rough spun wool socks for the journey but they would be taken upon his arrival at NCRCF. 

As Keyes finished the briefing, Richard gave the all clear sign to the watchmen ahead and the chain link gate was slid open. As one the company of soldiers moved out and headed due west across the Mojave. There was sparse chatter among the infantry mostly about the previous night they had spent on the Strip. Richard noticed several of them were especially quiet and sullen. Bad luck at the tables he had guessed, sooner or later Vegas got the best of everyone. Only way to win was not to play, that's why Richard never entered the city unless on an official mission. He lit himself a cigarette and puffed it slowly as they made their way southwest along the road. In all their years spent together Denver’s conservative beliefs had begun to rub off on Richard but smoking, he took a long drag, that was something he would never quit. 

He looked at Gloriana, her eyes focused on the road ahead. She had been quieter than he’d seen her before and hadn’t asked many details about the mission but she had raised an eyebrow at seeing the size of the escort provided for a single prisoner. Richard had wanted to tell her the identity of the young man, that he was a Brotherhood captive but Denver had expressly forbidden it. He understood why they couldn’t allow that information to get out, especially with Denver’s command over the region in question now more than ever with the new president. Richard trusted Gloriana and he knew Denver did as well and that trust was hard earned. They had all served as rangers together and saved each other's skin more times than any of them would like to admit. But years of command had taken their toll on Denver and he had become ever more grim and morose. Gloriana too, after Teresa’s death in the battle for Hoover Dam she had become withdrawn, her smile ever harder to find. Richard understood and he held sympathy for both of them, God knew that few others did. 

“It’s gonna be a long ride, Gloriana. Care to let me in a bit?” He was careful with his choice of words and kept a soft but even tone. Richard genuinely wanted to know what aggrieved her but he knew they must be careful with their speech with the prisoner between them. “I heard ya’ll just came back from hunting just south of the Mojave. I appreciate you recovering so quickly and joining us out here. It's good to see an old friend. I get sick of looking at Denver frown every day.” He said with a dry chuckle. Richard looked out ahead of them and saw the outline of the Follower’s Outpost in the distance. It was gonna be a long day.