With the plan set, the three of them—Six, Boone, and Raul—slipped through the shadows, moving toward the Crimson Caravan's headquarters. The compound was dark, its windows shut tight, with only the faint glow of a few lamps illuminating the front.
Guards were posted around the perimeter, but Six had already studied their patrol patterns. They weren't expecting an attack—especially not one so precise and quiet.
Midnight cast long shadows across the complex, and not even the guards saw the figures slipping by, Raul and Boone led the way, phantoms under the shimmer of their Stealth Boys keeping them hidden in the darkness. Six followed, moving quickly but carefully, knowing that one wrong step could undo the entire mission.
They moved with practiced precision, silent as ghosts on someone's back. Raul brought up the rear, all weathered instincts and unshakable calm. The trio moved like a blade through fabric—quiet, clean, decisive.
The inside of the Crimson Caravan building was a labyrinth of hallways and offices. It was clear McLafferty had made herself comfortable here, using her wealth and influence to turn the place into a fortress of power. But tonight, that power was about to be ripped away.
After what felt like an eternity of silent navigation, Raul and Boone reached McLafferty's private room. They found her alone, sitting at her desk, deep in paperwork. The faintest sound of her pen scratching against the paper was the only noise in the room.
Raul crept up behind her, Boone covering the door, and with a quick, efficient movement, the old ghoul wrapped a hand around McLafferty's mouth, pulling her from her chair before she could react. The Stealth Boys' hum was barely a whisper in the stillness, and McLafferty, oblivious to the danger, struggled to break free from Raul's grip.
But she was no match for him.
Boone stepped forward, his voice low and cold.
"Stay quiet, McLafferty. This will be easier for everyone."
They moved fast, binding her hands and keeping her subdued.
Six split off and entered the admin wing. His Pip-Boy interfaced with her terminal in seconds. He'd already seen her personal access codes during his earlier intel gathering. While the others worked to move McLafferty to the holding area, Six hacked her system.
The terminal came alive under his deft fingers with a few keystrokes. It didn't take long for him to extract all the data, copying her emails, files, and contracts. He spoofed system logs, planted a resignation letter—complete with her digital signature—and rigged the terminal to broadcast it across Crimson Caravan's internal network come morning.
"Due to personal circumstances, I, Alice McLafferty, formally retire from my position. The Crimson Caravan will be transitioning under new management effective immediately. May the Crimson Caravan continue to serve the NCR and its people faithfully."
A lie wrapped in cold, digital finality.
With a final click, Six also copied every file on the system—years of records, correspondence, blackmail, secret routes, off-the-books deals. Everything. Terminal locked, Six turned away, his expression unreadable. The evidence was now in his hands—evidence that tied McLafferty to some of the most heinous crimes imaginable.
By the time he slipped out and rejoined the others, Boone and Raul had McLafferty bound and gagged heading to the War Bus.
Returning to the War Bus, McLafferty's eyes went wild and filled with confusion, as she was thrown in front of Cassidy. The older woman's once-pristine suit was now covered in dirt and sweat, and she looked less like the powerful businesswoman she had been, and more like a trapped animal.
Cassidy didn't waste time. She didn't speak a word before grabbing McLafferty by the collar and shoving her against the wall.
"Let's talk."
Cassidy said, voice cold as ice.
McLafferty stammered, trying to wriggle free.
"You don't know who you're dealing with—"
Cassidy slapped her hard enough that the sound echoed through the room.
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with, BITCH!"
Cassidy spat.
"And you're gonna tell me everything. Or else I'll make you wish you had."
The interrogation was brutal, but necessary. Cassidy's methods were effective, her threats unyielding. Within an hour, the half-dead McLafferty had confessed to her most despicable deeds; Selling families and supplies to the Legion, poisoning NCR food supplies, exploiting children for profit, and even committing acts of genocide to ensure her power over the Mojave.
She talked about her deals with the Van Graffs, the hundreds of innocents who had died because of her machinations, attacks she'd orchestrated to destabilize NCR companies. And most damningly—colluding with Legion saboteurs to stage false-flag terrorist attacks against NCR Military supply depots, blaming raiders or Brotherhood remnants to profit from the chaos.
Six listened intently as Cassidy extracted the truth, her voice cutting through the darkness. Boone stood by, keeping an eye on the room all while wanting to put a bullet in the old witch, Raul remained quiet, his face stoic as he kept watch.
"Dios mio. Guys, this is why I don't trust the government or companies. They're all trying to screw you over."
When Cassidy was done, McLafferty was a broken shell of the proud corporate matron she once was, barely able to stand—sobbing, broken, filthier than the raiders she'd condemned.
Six compiled it all. Every word, every confession, every file from the terminal.
He sent it to Kimball with a brief message:
"This is who she really was. Handle your end. We'll handle ours."
Kimball replied not long after. The message was simple. Cold.
"Make her disappear. All of it. The Crimson Caravan is NCR property now."
He wanted a clean slate. No headlines. No trials. Just control.
Six gave him that.
Alice McLafferty will never be seen again.
Six turned to the team, his expression hardening.
"Kimball wants her gone. Disappeared. All of this—"
He waved his hand over the pile of evidence.
"—gets destroyed."
Cassidy's eyes glinted with a mix of fury and satisfaction.
"You got it, boss. She won't see the light of day again."
Six paused, looking at McLafferty one last time before turning away leaving her at Cassidy's hands.
"Let's move. We don't leave anything behind."
With McLafferty's fate sealed, the crew loaded up into the War Bus, the silence between them heavy with the weight of what they'd done.
And as the vehicle rumbled away from the Crimson Caravan headquarters, Six looked forward. The Mojave had just taken another step toward its reckoning. And for better or worse, he would be the one to decide which direction it would go next.
McLafferty's "retirement" became an internal whisper in NCR circles, and the Crimson Caravan Company was quietly absorbed into the NCR's official trade network. Its assets nationalized. Its routes now guarded by NCR Rangers.
But in the vaults beneath Goodsprings, copies of the truth remained. Documented. Archived. Untouchable.
Cassidy, finally standing over McLafferty's empty chair, let out a breath she'd been holding since her family burned.
"She'll never hurt anyone again."
Six said beside her.
Cass just nodded.
Then lit a cigar. And walked out.
Justice wasn't always loud.
Sometimes, it just vanished.