McCormick stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, waiting. As soon as Six approached, McCormick gave him a nod, his expression unreadable but his eyes scanning the man carefully. The tension in the air was thick—Six could tell McCormick had his own suspicions about what was really going on.
Without a word, Six pulled the letter from his jacket and handed it over, watching as McCormick took it with a slight frown. He didn't need to ask what was inside; Six had a feeling he already knew.
McCormick was the kind of guy who processed everything quickly, and Six's brief explanation had already set the gears in motion. What was in that letter would either ease the situation or make it worse.
As McCormick unfolded the paper, the silence between them grew heavier. Six leaned back against the nearby wall, arms crossed, and waited, knowing this would take a moment. The man didn't rush when it came to matters like these—he read with intent, each word weighing heavily on him.
After a few minutes, McCormick set the letter down on the desk in front of him and looked up, his expression still guarded.
"Well."
He started slowly.
"The King's message is pretty clear. He's willing to cooperate... but there's a catch, of course."
Six tilted his head, a faint sense of dread rising in him.
"What's the catch?"
"The King wants full control over Freeside's policing and security. In other words, he wants the Kings to be the law here. The NCR would only be allowed to inspect their operations, but otherwise, they'd have no say in how things are run."
McCormick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he sat back in his chair, clearly agitated.
Six raised an eyebrow.
"So, they want full autonomy... that's a non-starter for the NCR, isn't it?"
"Exactly."
McCormick responded with a grim smile.
"NCR law makes it impossible for me to just accept that. But, of course, he offered a way out by agreeing to inspections. That's a decent compromise, but the real problem lies elsewhere."
Six narrowed his eyes. "The ambassador."
McCormick nodded, his jaw tight. "The NCR wants us to address what happened to our ambassador, the one who was almost killed. I get it—it's personal for the NCR. But there's a lot of bad blood between the NCR and the Kings. Most of them don't like the NCR, and they've had their fair share of rough encounters with us."
He leaned forward, his tone low.
"We've got to tread carefully here. If we push the wrong way, we could spark a war."
Six frowned, weighing his options.
"So, what now?"
McCormick's eyes flicked to the radio, then back to Six.
"I need your help with this. We can't let this escalate, and you're already in the middle of it. If you can help me sort out who's behind this and calm the situation with the Kings, maybe we can negotiate for peace. Otherwise, we'll have another fight on our hands."
Six paused for a moment, considering the request.
"I get it. But who the hell's causing this mess?"
McCormick's lips tightened, and he shook his head.
"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling. I think there's someone in the Kings stirring the pot. And if we don't handle it soon, we'll have a much bigger problem than just a pissed-off King."
Six sighed.
"Alright. Let's figure this out. I'll talk to the King, find out who's causing the trouble, and then we can go from there."
McCormick nodded, a brief look of relief passing over his face. "Good. Time's running out."
Before Six could leave, the radio on McCormick's desk crackled to life, interrupting their conversation. Both men froze as the static buzzed with urgent voices.
"⁕Zzzzzz!⁕ we're under attack by ⁕Zzzzzz!⁕ Kings!"
McCormick's face darkened immediately, and he cursed under his breath.
"What's the situation?"
He barked into the radio.
"⁕Zzzzzz!⁕ The watchtower outside the ration distribution center!"
"Shit."
McCormick muttered, standing quickly.
"We need to move, now. There's no time to waste."
He turned to Six, his voice sharp.
"I need you to come with me. The Kings are making their move, and we need to stop this before it spirals out of control."
Six nodded, already heading for the door.
"Lead the way."
The two of them rushed down the stairs, making their way out of the building as quickly as they could. Outside, the air was thick with the tension of what was to come.
The sound of gunfire echoed from a distance, and Six's mind raced with the possibilities. Whoever had started this fight, it was only going to make things worse.
They didn't have much time.
As Six and McCormick sprinted toward the source of the gunfire, the streets of Freeside were already in chaos. The situation was escalating fast, civilians scrambled for cover, some ducking into alleys while others ran aimlessly, unsure of where the real danger lay. The acrid scent of gunpowder filled the air, and distant shouts mixed with the sharp cracks of gunfire.
McCormick kept his pace quick but controlled, weaving through the organized chaos with practiced efficiency. Six followed close behind, eyes scanning every rooftop and alleyway as they moved through the streets of Freeside.
The Kings wouldn't have started a fight outright—not unless they were provoked. And that meant someone else had lit the match.
McCormick pulled his service rifle from his back, chambering a round as he ran.
"I knew this was coming."
He muttered under his breath.
"Dammit, I knew something wasn't right."
Six kept pace beside him, his own weapon drawn.
"We need to figure out who fired first before this turns into an all-out war."
"Doesn't matter right now."
McCormick gritted his teeth.
"We need to put an end to it before it turns into a full-blown warzone. I'll talk to my men. You try and get a word with the Kings."
As they rounded a corner, the watchtower near the NCR's ration distribution center came into view. Several NCR troopers were pinned down behind sandbags, exchanging fire with a group of Kings who had taken up positions near a ruined storefront.
The Kings weren't fighting with just pistols and knives like a typical street gang—some had heavier firepower, military-grade weapons that made Six narrow his eyes.
"That's not standard Kings' gear."
He noted.
McCormick saw it too.
"Which means someone supplied them."
A bullet whizzed past their heads, forcing them to take cover behind an abandoned Brahmin cart. One of the NCR troopers spotted them and called out.
"Sergeant! They hit us first, we tried to hold position, but they keep coming!"
Six peeked over the edge of the cart, spotting a familiar figure among the Kings. Pacer, the King's hot-headed right-hand man. He was shouting commands, his face twisted with rage as he directed his men to press the attack.
"Well, that answers that."
Roger muttered.
"Pacer's behind this."
McCormick let out a sharp breath.
"I knew that bastard had it out for us, but this? The King won't be happy about this."
"Yeah, but right now, we need to stop him before he drags Freeside into a war."
Six said, checking his ammo.
"You got a plan, Sergeant?"
McCormick nodded, glancing at Six.
"We push up, suppress their fire, and get close enough for you to deal with Pacer. If we can take him alive, even better—he's the best proof we have that this isn't the King's doing."
Six gave a tight nod.
"Let's end this."
With that, the two broke from cover, advancing into the chaos.