Wanderer of the West

"I suppose.." Rita murmured simply in reply, a little dissatisfied by his answer. "I've never been to the east before, I don't know anyone, or any of the places..I guess it'd be a new experience, but if possible I wouldn't want to leave home." She went on to say, knowing Frankie would be frustrated with her reasoning. But she was simply speaking her mind and giving her opinion on his suggestion. The girl also considered Fort Angel and the U.S. Army, although it was true the gang had a lot of influence, and most likely there, too.

So she didn't want to leave the south-west. That left them in a bit of a problem. Because at least if they left the state, they would know that this gang of Raf's wouldn't have any kind of influence. But staying here was risky business. But it wasn't up to him. It was his job to find her a new home -- and if it meant risking her life again, then so be it. He was only doing as much as he could. He'd offered the alternate, but it wasn't suiting her. Fair play -- it wasn't to everyone's tastes to leave the state. "Well... we got Fort Angel then. We can try there." He shrugged, knowing it was a dodgy decision but the only reasonable one so far. "We take our chances, find a place and hope that it's safe."

It was quite a walk away. They didn't have any horses, so it was going to involve a lot of exercise. And that also meant that they'd be walking through Dead Territory -- a notorious place where highway robbers always struck. "Just keep your eyes peeled." He warned, knowing that this place was dangerous. Four watchful eyes were better than just his two.

"Right." She nodded listening to Frankie as he explained where they would be going. Walking alongside him, she kept close to Frankie, taking his head and keeping an eye out for anything dangerous. More and more often she leaned her head against him and rested it on his shoulder, not wanting to be hindrance, but Rita just felt so safe being close to him.

Frankie noticed her closeness. The way she held against him, or her head resting on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, however. Obviously she was doing it because she was scared. Walking through this route was one thing, but they both faced a future of uncertainty -- more so for her. He was only doing this to help out. This was her life, it was her the gang wanted, not him. Although technically he could be considered an accomplice, and they might for for him as well. Get rid of any witnesses or help.
The pair walked for what felt like an hour, although it was probably closer to three-quarters of that. Luckily, they were undisturbed during their journey, and managed to reach Fort Angel in one piece. Or so he thought. Approaching the gates of the fortified town, movement in the bushes caught the tired Cowboy off-guard. He couldn't go for his gun in time, and suddenly -- a figure jumped up with a rifle pointing towards them.
"Don't even go for your gun. Hands in the air...! Stand away from the girl."
Frankie turned to the Saloon Girl, and did as he was asked, side-stepping two yards and raising his arms. The ambusher revealed himself to be an American soldier, although his allegiance was currently unknown. "What are you doin' here... who sent you?"

"No one sent me. I'm just here, escortin' the girl. See? She's got a suitcase. She's movin' town."

The American soldier stuttered his steps towards Rita, before nodding towards the gate. "Start walkin' in. I see you go for a gun, and you're dead. We got snipers all over the fort, watchin' you right now. All they need to see is a bit of metal..." He warned.

Rita uttered a gasp as the soldier sprang from the nearby bushes all of a sudden, doing as Frankie did and raising her hands in the air, watching nervously as he stepped away from her and the soldier advanced, his rifle still pointed at both of them. She was a bit worried at first but breathed a small sigh of relief as the guard let them go in. Moving close to the cowboy again, she clung nervously to his arm as they approached the gates of Fort Angel. She suddenly wasn't so sure if this was the safest place, what with people pointing guns at them and all. But still the place seemed very fortified, and hopefully Raf and the gang's influence had not corrupted this possible safe haven.

"Do you think I'll be safe here?" She whispered to Frankie, tugging lightly on the sleeve of his duster.

Frankie looked at the scared woman, not wanting to put the fear of life in to her or anything. Then again, he wasn't one that usually lied about things. "I don't know. You might be safer digging yourself under the sand and sticking a tube out of the ground to breathe." He muttered, knowing it wasn't the most reassuring of answers that he could have gave. The soldier behind them followed with every step, although Frankie -- even with the darkness -- couldn't make out any of these so-called snipers he was talking about. Hiding, probably. Or maybe they just weren't actually there.

He kept his hands where the guard could see them, away from the revolver or anything that might be considered threatening. He made sure Rita was by his side, before they were told to stop by the soldier. "Don't go any further. In there." He nodded, to the left was an old, run-down sheriff's office. It had taken a hell of a beating, and looked to have been repaired after some kind of fire.

As they were motioned inside, Frankie looked at the man sitting behind the desk -- the white shirt, sleeves rolled, the jeans and the boots that pointed at the end. Over the shoulders, the expensive leather of the gun holster, resting against his chest. No gun in sight. The man had one leg crossed horizontally across the other, munching on a piece of fruit when they arrived. The man -- who appeared to be in his 40s, with wild, greying hair that almost waved in to a mullet, tossed the remains in to a bin.

"I'm Colonel Henri Gardin, commander of Fort Angel. We don't like it when strangers come crawling round the front door. Makes us wonder what the hell they're doin' here. So... what are you standing here for?"

Rita sighed slightly at Frankie's response, it was certainly far from a reassuring answer, but at this point the last thing he would be offering was sympathy. She knew he was already less than enthused to be helping her, but still the fact that he was doing so gave her some hope that he might feel the same way about her that she did about him. The two of them entered the run-down sheriff's office, directed by the solider from the gate, who left after being dismissed by the older gentleman behind the desk. He reminded her on Montand, except perhaps a little older and a lot less friendly. But it did make sense considering they were strangers.

As he asked what they were doing at Fort Angel, her mind froze, glancing over at the cowboy, she was unsure whether he was going to answer or if she should. She stepped away from him slightly, folding her hands in front of her, trying to look innocent. "I just need a place to stay. Somewhere safe, and this seemed like a good try." She murmured, looking down at her feet before lifting her gaze slowly to the sheriff.

"Safe, huh? Well I got news for you, girl. This place ain't safe. It ain't been safe since the day the first plank of wood was put up." Gardin jumped to his feet and leaned forward on his desk. "You thought that because the place has got Fort in it's name, that it's gonna have loads of soldiers and big guns to frighten away the Indians? Well you're wrong." The older man sighed as he straightened himself back up, circling round the table and sitting on the front edge, folding his arms and exhaling slowly.

"The last time we let in some strangers, they bled us dry. Stole every gun and item of value, then ran as fast as they could. We shot a couple of them, but most of them got away. Tried to get some more supplies down here, but the Army wasn't for having it. As far as they're concerned -- Fort Angel can rot to it's death."

Frankie's shoulders slumped, sighing with annoyance. Strike one place off the list then. That wasn't the news he wanted to hear, considering he was hoping to drop the saloon girl off here and head on with his travels. But he couldn't just abandon her here -- now she had ran from Raf's saloon, she needed somewhere that had protection. "What about the snipers that your soldier boy talked about?"

Gardin's face turned to Frankie, giving a forced smirk at the side of his mouth. "Snipers? Look kid -- there's no snipers. There's no soldiers. There's just him... and me."

"Well I can assure you that we're not thieves, bandits, anything of that sort. That's just who we..well who I'm trying to escape. He's just helping me out." Rita explained, stepping back over to Frankie and putting a hand on his arm, glancing over at him as well. "If you'd like we can be on our way, we don't want any trouble." She remarked next, leaning a little against the cowboy, sensing his frustration and annoyance. He was always so tense, if only there was a way to get him to lighten up. Of course their situation wasn't good but it was no reason to be always so down in the dumps. He needed to learn to look on the bright side, if one even existed though.