You see a little apprehension leave the Señor's mustached face. "Muy excelente! The job is simple, on paper at least: smuggle 1000 pounds of jet up north, stopping at several points, including The Corpse, Houston, and eventually ending up in Dallas."
This is quite an alarming proposition. A thousand pounds of jet, to be carried over a thousand miles. The most that any one person has been recorded to carry consistently is four hundred pounds, less than half of this request. You respond, "Sir, I don't mean to be pessimistic, but a thousand pounds? That would take almost ten trips. At least. And say I could carry a thousand pounds of jet, would I be expected to just walk into Brotherhood territory?"
The man chuckled. "Ask and it shall be given you, young halcon. Los sicarios have captured three Brotherhood trucks, armored and fueled. They should take you though Juarez Nuevo and to the border.
"Assuming you are not a ghoul, which I doubt you will have a problem with," he continues, eyeing you, "they should let through the wall. It's fairly straight forward doing so, especially if you already have experience on foot. Give them the papers we will give you and your cohorts, and they should let you pass freely. Just stay clear of the ghouls, they'll get ya!" The large man cackled.
"Anyway, the hard part will be smuggling the lot through The Corpse. After that incident that we assume was a G.E.C.K. mishap several decades ago, the city has been converted to an oasis, though I'm certain you remember that from the last run you made. Anyway, some of the halcones we have situated near there have alerted us that Legionnaires have some how made it past the Brotherhood defenses and have set up shop there. No bueno nada, if you ask me.
"Once you get past Corpus Christi, you should be home free, though. Not much could challenge you. By now, the Brotherhood is pressing South, and thinly spread in the North, if our reports are to be believed. Any further information can be downloaded into the Pip-boy of yours. So, are you in?"