The moment they crossed the threshold, the Van Graffs' security detail stiffened. They immediately reached for their weapons, but it was already too late. Before the smoke cleared, Cassidy stormed through with a feral scream, blasting the first guard in the chest. His torso was blown open, noticing the hole through his ribcage as he turned to see before he hit the ground.
Raul and Roger followed suit, expertly gunning and cutting down the guards who dared to resist.
"Get to the back."
Rebecca ordered, her chipper voice sharp and commanding as she waved her Punisher toward the back rooms.
"Time to send a message."
Six stepped in behind her, twin pistols already barking thunder. Each shot was a death sentence—kneecaps, throats, center mass. Clean, practiced, merciless.
The Van Graffs fired back, but their precision faltered under pressure. Rex lunged into the fray, ripping one thug's throat out while ED-E laid down suppressing fire with deadly accuracy.
Boone's rifle cracked from the rooftop, dropping anyone who looked like they might flank the team. His shots weren't just deadly—they were surgical.
With Cassidy leading the way, the team stormed through the building. The Van Graffs' smug sense of security crumbled under their assault, the once-pristine walls now scarred with bullet holes and burning plasma marks.
They reached the heart of the operation—the Van Graff family themselves.
Gloria Van Graff, her sharp features twisted in surprise, stood behind a massive desk cluttered with contracts and weapons trade deals. Jean-Baptiste Cutting, always calculating, stood beside her, a smug smile curling on his lips as he reached for a hidden weapon.
"Enough!"
Gloria shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.
"You don't know what you're doing. We control Freeside. I'll give you caps, because you can't—"
Cassidy stepped forward, a fire burning in her eyes.
"I know exactly what I'm doing. This is for my Caravan—friends who were my family."
Gloria's mouth opened, but whatever excuse or insult she was about to spit out died the moment Cassidy raised her shotgun.
A single shot cracked through the room, deafening and absolute.
The buckshot struck Gloria dead center, snapping her backward into the chair behind the desk. She twitched once, her eyes wide in disbelief, before going still—forever silenced as the life drained from her eyes.
Jean-Baptiste Cutting's smirk vanished. His hand had just brushed the butt of his concealed pistol when Roger stepped forward and kicked the desk, flipping it sideways with a crash that sent contracts and weapon schematics fluttering like ash. Rebecca was already moving, her Punisher trained on Jean's head.
"Make my day."
She warned.
"Let's see if you're fast enough."
Jean froze, breathing hard, eyes darting between them.
"You'll regret this you shrimp. You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Cassidy didn't even blink. She walked over slowly, each step deliberate. Rebecca kept her weapon steady. Rex let out a low, threatening growl.
Cass stared Jean down.
"You murdered my people—my friends."
She said, voice quiet and ice cold.
"And all for what? To cut a deal and carve up the trade routes, let those bastards torch our caravans and bury the truth in blood and caps."
"Business is war."
Jean spat.
"And you lost. It wasn't personal, but maybe we can become partners?"
There was a pause.
Then Cassidy nodded and subsequently shook her head.
"Yeah, NO!"
"I see no reason to do that now that I am winning in the end."
She raised her shotgun and fired once more.
Jean collapsed beside his half-sister Gloria, his legacy dying with him.
Six watched impassively, his hands tucked in his pockets. He didn't need to speak. Cassidy had already done what was necessary, her own justice served in a way only she could.
Within minutes, the showroom was in ruins. Van Graff's bodies lay strewn across plasma-scorched marble. Their energy weapons were shattered, melted, or stripped and bagged by Roger, like the pirate he is.
Cassidy stood over Gloria Van Graff's and her brother's body, shotgun barrel smoking.
"They begged."
She said coldly.
"Tried to offer me caps. Partnership. Swore it wasn't personal."
Six met her gaze.
"And?"
Cass sniffed.
"I made it personal."
The room fell into silence. Even the buzzing from the flickering lights seemed to hush, as if the building itself knew the reign of the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan had come to a bloody, permanent end.
"We take the ledgers, pocket their contacts, and erase the Van Graffs name off the map."
Six glanced at Cassidy.
"Then you'll take over everything of theirs, as an associate of the VI merchant family. As we wipe the Van Graff family."
Cass looked down at her shaking hands, the shotgun still warm. Roger walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't look at him—but she didn't shrug him off either.
Rex padded over, nuzzling her leg gently.
Six turned to Roger.
"No survivors Roger. You dealt with scum like them before in your world."
Roger nodded and used his Observation Haki to deal with any remnants. With a quick flick of his sword here and there, the blade was soon soaked in blood.
Outside, the Kings watched in silence. No one clapped. No one cheered.
But they didn't stop it either.
It was frontier justice.
And it wasn't over.
"We done here?"
Boone asked, voice laced with the grim satisfaction of a job well done.
Six nodded, his expression unreadable.
"We've made our point. Let's move."
Cassidy gave one last glance at the lifeless bodies of the Van Graffs. The anger that had been consuming her heart seemed to drain away, replaced by something colder, quieter. She holstered her shotgun and turned on her heel.
"I hope they understand that the Mojave's not for the taking."
She muttered, her voice dark with resolve.
The crew moved swiftly, their work done. As they exited the Silver Rush, the Kings were already gathering outside, their leader, The King, giving a nod of approval as he watched the aftermath of the assault.
"You kept it clean."
He said with a grin.
"Told ya we could keep it together Six."
Six gave a single nod, his eyes scanning the distant horizon as they walked back to the War Bus.
"Time to take down the next one—Crimson Caravan HQ. Alice McLafferty has a meeting with karma."
And with that, they headed toward their next target. The Crimson Caravan.
Cass pulled back the slide on her shotgun, expression steel.
"Let's not keep the bitch waiting."