• Grady Ambrose sat outside of the saloon in Goodsprings, smoking a cigarette. He was waiting for Dallas to give the signal. Grady looked down the road towards the town itself, seeing farmers tending to their crops and Bighorners. They were lightly armed, with small caliber weapons. Grady took a final drag from his cigarette, flicked the butt away, and exhaled the smoke. This would be one of their biggest heists yet.

    He heard a knock on the window behind him, and he knew it was time. Grady stood up, adjusted his Cowboy Hat, wrapped a bandana around his face, and drew his .357 Magnum, "Silver." He opened the door to the saloon, and stepped inside. Radio New Vegas was playing on a juke box somewhere and there were six people drinking, smoking, and socializing. Dallas came out of a back door, looking almost exactly like Grady, but holding a 9mm Pistol.

    Dallas aimed into the air and fired once. The room got dead quiet as everyone turned and looked. "Get on the ground, now!"

    A girl screamed as everybody dove to the floor. The bartender, Trudy, tried to get down, but Dallas pointed his gun at her and shouted, "Nope. Get back up, lady. We got some business to take care of."

    Grady looked around a corner and saw a woman in armor with a rifle in her hands. She saw Grady and tried to aim. Before she could fire, Grady fired twice and hit her in the stomach. She let out a groan and slumped to the ground. "I took out a guard!"

    "Get the caps out of the register! Now!" he heard Dallas shout. Grady turned around and looked out the front door. He saw a man looking out his house window across the street. Grady aimed his gun in the general direction of the man, who promptly jumped down out of view. Problem Solved.

    A bullet struck the wooden doorframe, inches from his head. Grady instinctively ducked down and rolled back inside. "Dallas, hurry the hell up! We got militia comin'!"

    He risked a peek outside and saw two men, both with rifles. Grady aimed and fired once. Dirt kicked up in front of one of the men, who flinched visibly. Another shot, this time it cracked through the front window. Glass shattered and pieces fell onto Grady.

    Grady aimed again and fired. The bullet struck a guy in the neck, who fell to the ground. The other man ducked and ran into the brush. Dallas ran up beside Grady, with a sack over his shoulder.

    "How do we look?" he asked. Grady looked outside and didn't see anyone else.

    "Looks like we're clear. Let's go before anyone else shows up, yeah?" The two dashed outside onto the dirt road, and turned left onto the broken down roadway south. They ran as fast as they could, until Goodsprings was no longer in view.

    "Alright. Let's set up camp." Dallas pulled two bedrolls out of their backpack, and they gathered wood to start a fire.

    It got dark quickly. They sat down and ate some squirrel stew.

    "How much did we get?" Grady asked. Dallas finished slurping his stew.

    "Uh. 'Bout a thousand caps. Pretty good haul," Dallas said. Grady held his fist out, and they fist bumped.

    "Another day survived."