[color=f7941d][u][b]Ambassador Benjamin "Benny" Watts - NCR Embassy [/b][/u][/color]


It was almost noon and Benny had to make a decision. He looked at the holotape on his desk and sunk deeper in his cracked leather chair. 

“I think you should send it in.” Marisol said. She was next to him, half leaning on the desk, her dark hair loose about her shoulders. So casual was her nature one might think her a friend, rather than a subordinate. Benny sometimes had difficult discerning between the two when it came to her.  

“I’m not keen on making an enemy of Colonel Abernathy.” He looked up at her, feeling small. “He resents me enough as is, I don’t want to inflame his passions any more than the Van-Graffs already have.” 

“What do you think the Van-Graffs will do if they find out you sat on the holotape rather than deliver it? You think Peter and his goons will be any more merciful than the colonel?”

Benny motioned for her to lower her voice. The past month had seen their bond between one another grow, and Marisol had been invaluable in replacing the corrupt embassy staff and hiring more capable and honest people. Still, even with the Van-Graffs regional headquarters destroyed and Gloria missing, Benny feared that some of his staff could be in the pockets of the Van-Graffs. Worse still the most senior Van-Graff in the Mojave was now Peter, a violent man with zero patience. Making enemies had landed him in this position and he believed that making anymore would be a death sentence. 

“Denver has given more than thirty years to the NCR. He’s spent nearly a decade holding the Mojave territory for them.” Benny lifted the holotape. “This would take all that away. It would leave him with nothing.” 

There was nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing left to lose, Benny knew that all too well. His eyes fell to a locked drawer in his desk, inside contained the journal of Leonid Tannhauser he confiscated his first night in the Mojave. Benny had read it several times the past few weeks but hadn’t done anything more. He had hoped that ignoring it long enough would make the problem go away. Now, a month later he was confronted with another vital bit of information that he must decide whether to share with his superiors or not. Truly this assignment was a most perverse kind of punishment. Some days he wondered if being caught by the Bishops would be better than this burden of responsibility. 

“It would leave him in prison.” Marisol corrected. “Collusion with the enemy and negligent command. It would be an open and shut trial.” She sat up off his desk and turned around to make for the door, slipping her shoes on. 

Benny found it hard to argue against. Denver hadn’t been popular in Shady Sands, especially after Secretary Tannhauser almost lost his son in the Khan’s raid. Now with the destruction of the NCRCF and the damage done to the Mojave branch of the Van-Graff corporation. They’d be calling for his execution, nevermind a court martial. 

“It’s still a gamble. He would know it was me that sent it in.” 

Marisol turned and smiled.

“Everything in this city is.” 

She left him alone and for a moment he remained in his chair. Anxiety welled up in his chest, oh how he loathed making decisions. Unable to contain the acid drip inside he stood up and paced around the room. The longer he waited the less chance he had to control the narrative, and controlling the narrative would keep him alive. He looked over at the painting on the wall, the one he had been given by the vault-dweller Danny. He took a step toward it, staring at the lone bear within it. So dwarfed by the vast landscape around it. He had contemplated this painting many times since it was given to him. He had thought it a subtle threat at first, but now he realized the prophecy in it. 

He needed to send the tape.