#sam dad

"It’s just as well Athalie died. I knew it was only a matter of time before she would piece things together, figure out why I was gone for so long and where I had been going. She would've gut me without a second thought. You ever wonder how Sam can be charming and hospitable one moment, and then there’s that pause. Not very long, blink and you’ll miss it. He’s still smiling, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s looking through you. Like the world drops away from you and it’s just you and him, only he’s in front of you and behind you and just off to your side all at once. That’s her taking over. That predator behind the wheel. Kinda what caught my eye about her in the first place. As stupid as it is to not be afraid of anything, fear really didn't exist in her head. That’s what drew me in, all that sheer confidence in herself. And it rubbed off on others, too. Being around her, you felt like she felt. Like she could do all the crazy shit people said she did. But the flip side to that coin was the fear she could instill in others. She didn't even need her gun or her sledgehammer, just one look. One glance, tilt of the head, slight twitch of the brow, even a little sniff from the nostrils, and it’d damn near stop your heart. Even if I had been around often enough, he still would've came out the way he did. He was her son, simple as that. Not sure if he’s got that whole leadership thing, though. But I heard enough about him, saw enough of the aftermath of when he blew through someone’s life, he had the rest of her in his blood. Never knew a woman like her before, and I knew it’d be a matter of time until she offed the right person, got the right kind of attention, until somebody wanted her for themselves. Would I have delivered? I’m not sure. If I tried… she’d probably try to kill me. Likely succeed. And if she didn't and I pulled off the transfer, and he found out? There wouldn't be a single identifiable piece of me or the buyers left. Just a thin red smudge on the floor… and the walls and ceiling. There’s murder, then there’s what those two are capable of. Well, were. Those lessons she taught him? About killing clean, to ensure there’s no suffering? Those are her way of atoning for some damn thing. I don’t know what. I asked her once and she just stared at me. Right fuckin’ through me. I've found myself looking down more than a few muzzles, and that’s what it felt like. Staring right down into the end. I’d sooner punch a deathclaw on the snout than have her look at me like that ever again. And considering she’s dead and all, that won’t be a problem.”

"He probably wants to know where I had been, what I was doing. Why I wasn't there that day, why I wasn't doing what he likely thought I should’ve been doing. Maybe if we meet, I’ll get to tell him. Maybe he’ll plug me through and through. Maybe he won’t even recognize me. That’d be the really interesting scenario. Would he’d be looking for me to settle up, or would he have found something in his life to fill the void I left, leave me long forgotten?"

"Nah, what’d be truly fucking fascinating is if his name came across my desk. Somebody wanting to have a collar fit for him and not putting two and two together and thinking, just for a moment, they’re asking me to rope my son. Real fascinating, that."

The man brushed the crumbs of his meal from his clothes and slid out of the booth seat, dropping a single silver coin on the table. "Sometimes I wonder where he is. I know he’s alive, of course. There’s been a few tales of someone fitting his description, or what he’s capable of, come flitting in my ear. There was some big mess in Illinois that saw damn near an entire town butchered in a way that’d make Caesar’s best and brightness perk right up. Seems a fire started at the gallows and spread through town in all the wrong ways. I heard some talk of a rather strange doorman that clearly wasn't a local working a Reno whore house, as well as some talk of a bounty hunter fond of shotguns around Vegas. Sounds like him. Could be him. Athalie did love her twelve gauge, just as her dad did. Strange thing about her gun? Took a bayonet, about as long as my damn arm. You’re already up close with buckshot, you really gonna stick somebody? Bloodthirsty woman if there ever was one.

But if it is him? Let Sam find me. The whole Mojave is just a time bomb with a tricky timer wired to some sweaty sticks. When the whole thing blows; not if, when, he’ll get pushed right to me. Right to the big bad Bear. Mojave is frontier territory, but here in NCR country? They don’t seem to really like the fast and loose mercenary types. There are rules, order, structure."