BUYG: Build Up Your Gang IV
Posted 24 June 2010 - 05:18 PM Edited by bhlegend, 25 June 2010 - 10:00 AM.
Kev was sat at Steinway Beer Garden with Rooster, Mike and Fred. They were having the normal pint before going to do a bit of business but had to throw down there pints when Kev received a text message from Scouse saying....
“Kev get down to Monoglobe in Dukes, we’re in some sh*t.”
“Guys we need to go to the Monoglobe, Scouse is in trouble.” said Kev
“Well then let’s go.” Mike replied, in a worried voice, as all of them dropped their pints and sprinted out of Steinway Beer Garden.
“Do you know what’s happened to him?” asked Rooster
“No he just said get there.” Kev answered
When the four men made it to the Monoglobe they could see Scouse and James behind some bins, taking cover from the bullets that shot past their ears. The RDC were on the scene smashing bullets into the rubbish and the bins that Scouse and James were behind.
“Split up and flank around them to give Scouse and James support!” shouted Kev as him and his friends split up and went around the sides of the battlefield.
Each of them withdrew their guns to attack the RDC. The four Irish Mobsters were close to the RDC goons and started firing on them, despite there being a lot more RDC members than the Irish Mob. Rooster fired his Assault Rifle bullets into the chest of three RDC goons who couldn’t withstand the bullets force as they crashed on to the floor lifeless.
Mike and Fred advanced on a lot further and were almost in point blank range of the RDC. They shot their Micro-smg rounds into the RDC crew in front of them. The six goons fell to the floor giving Mike and Fred the chance to see more RDC closing in. As they were dropping down in to cover Mike’s eyes grew with shock and sadness as he saw Fred fall to the ground with multiple bullet holes in his chest and arms.
“Aaaaaaargghh!!” shouted Mike as a tear came to his eye
“What the f*ck happened?” said Rooster as his shout was drowned out by the bullets getting fired upon him
“THEM PRICKS GOT FRED!” shouted Mike
“sh*t.” said Kev who sounded sad and disappointed
Suddenly Mike, who was full of rage, stood up and started shooting at the remaining RDC. Still with a tear in his eye after losing his friend, his finger would not come off the trigger of his Assault Rifle as he took a couple of them down and then moving down into cover.
Scouse and James moved out of their cover from behind the bins and up to the Monoglobe. They stood up to fire at the RDC but James fell straight back down as a bullet penetrated into his shoulder.
“YOU f*ckER!” screamed James as he laid on the floor in pain
“Are you okay?” asked Scouse
“Obviously f*cking not.” replied James in a croaky voice
“Kev give me some cover!” shouted Scouse
“Okay.” said Kev
Kev and Rooster fired at each of the RDC left to make them get down as Scouse went to help James. Kev and Rooster’s covering fire failed as the RDC popped straight back up while Kev and Rooster were reloading. Scouse then took a bullet to the head which killed him instantly.
“NOOOO!” shouted Kev as he saw Scouse crash down
James was still injured on the floor next to where Scouse was laying dead. He knew he was going to die soon so he came up with an idea to save everyone else.
“Kev make sure you get Rooster and Mike out of here.” said James pulling two grenades out of his jacket
“James this is no time for heroics, we will get you out of here.” replied Kev
“No just go. All three of you.” said James
“Okay, just make sure you get all of them.” said Kev who looked like he was going to cry
“I will.” said James
James stood up with all of his strength and pulled out one of the pins of the grenades and threw it directly at the RDC. The grenade was in line with a bunch of them as it exploded, killing all of them. James then threw the other grenade at the RDC van where the rest of the goons were. The van blew up killing them except one who was lying on the floor with a pistol in his hand. Kev, Rooster and Mike made a run for it and got out onto the street.
James, who was left standing there, grabbed his pistol from the floor and quickly shot at the last RDC goon left. The goon fired at James at the same time and both men were hit. James was shot in the leg and fell to the floor bleeding heavily but the RDC member got the bullet wedged into his head and instantly died.
“Guys let’s get out of here.” said Kev
“Ye’ I agree.” replied Rooster
Kev, Rooster and Mike went back to Kevs apartment. They all stumbled into the door in disappointment and sadness because of the loss of their friends. Rooster and Mike sat on the sofa in an awkward silence while Kev went for a piss.
“We have to kill that John Rosato prick.” said Rooster breaking the silence
“Of course we do, he killed our friends.” said Mike
“First we have to find out where his is.” replied Kev who came out of the bathroom
“But who’s going to know that?” asked Rooster
Suddenly there was a big knock at the door which sounded threatening. Kev grabbed his Combat Pistol and went to the door. As he opened the door with his Combat Pistol at the ready, he saw two familiar faces.....
Meanwhile at the Monoglobe, James was lying on the floor bleeding a lot out of both of his wounds. He was going through a lot of pain which he couldn’t take. So he slowly grabbed his pistol which was next to him, he pointed the pistol at his head with fear and then pulled the trigger.
At Kev’s apartment Rooster and Mike stood up to see who was at the door. They and Kev both had the expression of surprise on their faces when they saw who was at the door. It was JD and Mac.
Posted 25 June 2010 - 11:28 AM
Posted 01 July 2010 - 03:42 AM
I'll start working on my story.
Posted 07 July 2010 - 12:34 AM
Posted 07 July 2010 - 01:27 AM
|QUOTE (Mr.c TO the J @ Jul 1 2010, 03:42)|
|I'd like to be added to the peg's at honkers now that I have the time to play BUYG.|
|QUOTE (lynchem'all @ Jul 5 2010, 17:25)|
|I will join M.O.B. at XXX Video Shop|
|QUOTE (armadillo @ Jul 7 2010, 00:34)|
|I'd like to write for MOB in the Firefly Crack Den's, please.|
Members are attributed to a property when they post their first story there, assuming the property is unclaimed already. These three properties are unclaimed, so post away and they will have your name on them!
Posted 07 July 2010 - 06:18 PM Edited by Sanjeem, 07 July 2010 - 08:42 PM.
Posted 09 July 2010 - 08:29 AM
Chapter one-Leave the gun…
The man walked into the strip joint, it smelled like cigarette smoke and vodka as he walked up to the bar.
The bar keep came over and asked, “What can I get ya Tony?”
Tony ran his finger though his hair and replied in a rather grim voice “A Pisswasser on the rocks”
He looked around the club it was rather dim the only lights being the strobe lights and the pink party lights. He caught a glance of a striper eying him he ignored it. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead.
“Here ya go beer on the rocks,” said the bar keep he added “on the house today” as Tony went for his wallet.
Tony put his wallet back into his leather jacket and mustered up “thanks” Tony thought to him self why did Mike want to see him, he looked at the stripers on the polls behind the bar and thought, why in hell do they do this, do they have any self respect, well I guess its better than street walking.
Tony heard a whistle from the door and looked around it was mike who was wearing a new black peruses suit with a purple tie, he had his hair oiled back and stood about six feet tall and looked about 34 years old. Mike then yelled, “Ton get over here, I got something for you out back” Tony got up and walked to the door.
Once out side Tony felt the burst of cool early morning air and the smell of the sweet smoke and alcohol disappeared replaced by the smell of the oil refineries that plagued the industrial wasteland that is southern Alderny.
Tony reached for his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and pulled two out he stuck one in his mouth, handed the other to Mike, and asked, “Got a light?”
Mike took the cigarette and put in in his mouth and pulled out an old-fashioned Zippo lighter, he flipped it open and light his cigarette, and then handed the lighter to his brother, who also light up his cigarette.
“So Tony,” asked Mike sounding concerned “how have you been you look like sh*t, no offence” Mike took a puff off his cigarette and continued as smoke came out of his mouth “dose mom know your sick bro?”
Tony looked at mike and said somewhat irritated “No I was just woke by you saying you need to see me and so far all we’ve done is bullsh*t like two little canneries on a f*cking tree!” By this time, they had stopped by the side of the building.
Mike shrugged, continued walking towards the back of the club, and said come “on it will all be worth it.”
Tony thought yeah right and walked on.
When the reached the back of the building Tony saw a dark green Coquette and asked, “This yours brother?” Tony admired the car and looked it over; always having a love for cars since he could remember. Tony removed the cigarette from his mouth and released one more puff of smoke before extinguishing it with his foot.
“Nope it’s not mine, it’s yours, happy birthday, there’s also a present in the trunk to,” Mike said as he opened the hatch and reviled a gun case, mike handed it to his brother and said “go ahead, open it man.”
Tony took the gun case and ran his fingers though his hair and, opened the case reviling a new bolt-action sniper rifle Tony took out the rifle and looked it over. He looked up to his brother, and took his cigarette out of his mouth and let out puff of smoke before dropping it to the ground and he said in an approving tone, “These are the most beautiful damn gifts ever man, thanks bro.”
Mike looked, and then he took his cigarette from his mouth and put it out and said, “I try bro I try, but you’re going to have to earn that second gift.”
Tony looked uncaused and asked in a rather dismal tone“what do I have to do?”
“Oh, you just have to kill Leonardo Bocino, you know Ray’s older bro? Well let’s just say he hasn’t been earning and on top of that, he’s been rating out on us to the pigs, and god knows what info he’s given out,” He looks up at his brother, and added, “He’s moved out to broker to lead an operation there, he bought out that house on Shinnecock Avenue, the one that Faustin used to have before that Serb killed him, you know the same one who killed the boss.”
Tony said “Hmm so that’s were old man B. moved to, well I know that I can use that apartment block down the street from there, and set up and when he comes out, bam!” Tony put the gun back in it’s case and put it in the back of his new car. He went for the drivers side door and got in and asked his brother though the rolled down window and asked, “where are the keys?”
“Here you go” said Mark as he handed Tony two sets of keys “one set is a spare.” Tony then put the extra set into his jeans pocket.
Tony started the car and peeled off out of the parking lot.
Tony had arrived in the parking lot of the apartment block, he go out of his car and removed his aviator sun glasses and put them on the dash of the car. He then strode to the back of his brand new Coquette and opened the hatched and removed the gun from it’s case, he then walked over to the main door of the building and walked up the flights of stairs, past hobos looking for a warm place to sleep , to a crack whore looking to get some cash for her next fix.
Upon arrival on the top of the building, Tony walked over to the southern side of the building and set up for his shot, he then pulled out his ifruit phone and dialed old man B.’s number “Hello” said a man in his late fifties.
“Hey old man B. I left a house warming present on the front steps, enjoy.” Tony pushed the end call button on his phone and prepared the shot, the old man came out into the early morning air his hair glowed white in the early morning sun, Tony then said to his self, “and here it is old man.” He took the shot and the bullet went right thought the old mans head splattering his blood and brains on to his wife who had come out to see what he was doing.
Tony ran towards the door as he thought to his self leave the gun, he dumped the gun in a heater duct has he heard it plummet to the boiler below, he raced down the stairs and ran to his car as he heard sirens coming in the distance. He slid a crossed the hood to the driver’s side and opened the door, he got in and then started the car, it’s motor rumbled to live, the then peeled out of the parting lot doing a perfect drift out onto the street.
He went though the un manned tool both and turned left onto Crocket Avenue, he then pulled out his phone and rang his brother, he got the machine, “I did the job, later” He threw the phone out the window and stepped on the gas, as he thought how he had always hated that thing.
NOTE-There is my first story, the date is when the story takes place not when I got it done.
Posted 13 July 2010 - 11:08 AM
Posted 13 July 2010 - 03:31 PM
Posted 13 July 2010 - 03:34 PM
Posted 24 July 2010 - 05:31 PM
Posted 25 July 2010 - 12:17 PM
|QUOTE (RaWrMoNsTeR @ Jul 25 2010, 03:31)|
|Could someone add me to the Pegorinos at Honkers? Thanks. Story to follow soon...|
For the nine billion three hundred and seventy-five million, ninety-four thousand and eight hundred and seventeeth time... when you have written your story, and that story has been rated, and you are the first to have written for that location and gang combination, and it isn't already occupied, then staff will add you to the location on the front page. Sorry, it's just we don't save spots for "soon" participants. But, write and it's yours.
Posted 25 July 2010 - 01:55 PM
Posted 25 July 2010 - 09:58 PM
|QUOTE (RaWrMoNsTeR @ Jul 25 2010, 13:55)|
|Well there's only six billion people on earth so I doubt that was the nine billionth time.|
Some people can't get the message first time.
Posted 26 July 2010 - 01:02 AM
Pegorinos, Honkers, Chapter 1.
I was standing around the back of Honkers, having a smoke, as dictated my daily routine. Too bad I never got to finish it. I struck the match against the box, igniting a smooth flame that, in turn, lit my cigarette, and I began to take long draws. I was about 2 minutes in when my phone rang, startling me and spilling ashes onto my black polo. In addition to the polo, I was wearing black slim jeans, tucked in, with a black belt. I hit "send" and put the earpiece to my ear. The cigarette muffled my voice a bit, but I still managed to get through. "Yeah." I never said my name until I knew who I was talking to.
"Joeeeey! It's Phil!" A familiar voice screamed through the earpiece.
"Christ Almighty, Phil, my hearing's okay. You don't have to yell." I was a bit annoyed, and my tone changed to match it.
"Sorry, me boy. Well, uh, come on down to the docks, I've got something for ya."
Oh, sh*t, I thought in my mind. I was sure I'd become a victim of the old "company downsizing". I got so scared. The cigarette dropped from my mouth as it hung open, and I would've dropped the phone if he hadn't read my mind.
"Relax, me boy. It ain't like that. It's a genuine gift." He sounded reassuring.
"Alright, where at the docks?" I questioned.
"Uhhh, the place with the nice view." He never was explicit on the phone, and frankly, that's one thing you can't be too paranoid about. Me and him had a little code set up. "The place with a view" meant that we were meeting by the water." More and more people were goin' away for cell phone taps than ever these days. I didn't have to be as careful, though, because I switched phone providers every month, and I never had a contract.
"Alrighty, then. I'll see you there." I said, immediately hitting "end" and putting the phone back into my side pocket. I stamped out the smoldering cigarette and walked in through the back door. This led me into my "office" which was basically just an old desk, a mini fridge, and a mattress. I slept there whenever my actual house in Acter was unsafe. Walking out, I took care to lock the back door as well as my office door. I walked across the floor and out the main door, eyeing up a few girls as I did so. Nodding to the bouncer who was on duty, Tim, I opened my car door and climbed in, which prompted me to begin the complex series of algorithms that I refer to as "Starting Up My Piece of Crap Sentinel". I hated this car, but it was free. My old car, due to a recent incident involving multiple families, was now at the bottom of the East River. My name, by the way, is Giovanni Cangelosi. A Sicilian name, for a 100% Sicilian guy. It improved my chances of getting made, because, to the surprise of many, Sicilians are actually preferred by the Cosa Nostra. At least, Old Man Pegorino's group is that way. He was never touchy about being called Don Pegorino. Old Man Pegorino suited him just fine, and so we called him that.
When I arrived at the docks, a portly guard approached the passenger window. I leaned over and cranked it down, allowing him to say, "Name?" With an uncaring smirk.
"Pegorino," I told him with a sarcastic grin. He nodded and walked back into the guard hut. As he did, I noticed that the car in our meeting spot wasn't Phil's car. Maybe I was getting whacked. I checked the glove compartment, which held only a Glock 17 and a few mags, to make sure the gun was loaded. The gate slid open slowly. It was a nice setup. The port authority didn't ask questions, and in return, the old man gave them a little slice of the pie. I pulled up to the car, which Phil immediately stepped out of. I stepped out as well, apparently prompting Phil to say, "How's it feel to be a bona fide wiseguy?"
"No," I shook my head and whispered, my happiness slowly building. I knew what was going on.
"Yeah, you crazy son of a b*tch, you're gettin' made!" He came over and gave me a hug. I'd been waiting for this forever. I couldn't believe it.
"Oh, man." I was in awe. Just then, a red Coquette braked to a halt in front of my car, almost taking out my headlights. I knew it had to be Tony. Sure enough, it was, and he stepped out of the car, laughing and smiling. He gave me a hug as well, and we all sat on my hood and shared a smoke.
I had to ask the burning question. "Phil, you get a new set of wheels?"
He nodded. "A gift from the old man." Trails of smoke flew from his mouth.
"Nice." My thoughts drifted to my own car.
"But the gift ain't for me." He handed me a key, grin on his face.
"Thank you so f*ckin' much!" I hugged him and climbed into the shiny black PMP600, eyeing up the leather interior. Of course, being a wiseguy meant I'd have access to as many of these as I wanted, in addition to pretty much being able to do what I want.
Tony approached the window and whispered, "I've got a present for ya in the glove compartment." He winked. Knowing Tony, at first I thought he'd play a joke and leave condoms in there, but upon opening the glove compartment, I saw it was far from that. It was a high-caliber pistol, apparently a Desert Eagle. I winked at Tony to show him some appreciation. I stepped out to get my other gun out of my old car. I had to move Phil, but I accomplished it. Now my new gun was in the glove compartment and my old one was in the back floorboard. I sat on the hood of my car for a few minutes, talking with them, before I finally suggested, "You wanna go grab some food?" They both nodded, and I was in the celebratory mood, so I headed out towards Algonquin. Upon exiting the docks, I almost hit some old stronzo, which prompted me to roll down the window, and shout less-than-honorable things at him before receiving a bony middle finger. Tony and Phil laughed their *sses off. Looking back, I wish I'd enjoyed that day more, because I had no idea of what was to come.
Chapter 1 end.
Chapter 2 coming soon...
Posted 26 July 2010 - 02:55 AM Edited by Maverick24, 27 July 2010 - 12:18 AM.
Also, note that the Act number has changed from I to III... I'm signalling continuation.
Act III - Chapter 3 - 'Round About Midnight
The Pavano Family
They walked past the crowded tables to polite applause, finishing in the centre of the Linen Lounge's wooden dance floor. He wore a white suit and a shirt with a large and tight collar spread slightly to fit the matching white tie. She wore pearls, hanging exquisitely across her young and flawless neckline; and a pure white evening gown that looked like it had been stolen through time from a fifties film star. Staff fussed to attend them. Chairs were manoeuvred to seat them as a table came, held aloft over a courteous waiter's head, and was placed and laid for them in a fleeting moment. The Maître d' was at their side with a bottle of the finest blanc de blancs, aptly chilled on ice.
As Tommy Filippone was seated, the drummer started to tap a quiet mid-tempo beat on a single symbol. The faint jingle, drowned out by the settling applause, counted the keyboard and bass in. As the trio rambled through a twisting introduction of hybrid jazz melodies, a short black man in a cherry red suit strolled on carrying a trumpet. Before his lips could meet the mouthpiece, a slight ripple of applause signalled tribute to the little known legend in the crowd's presence.
A few knowing Wisemen were doing the clapping, perhaps none more though than Emilio Costa. He was seated to the right of the stage, one of many front row tables surrounding Tom Fil's, but aside from the main gathering around the centre of the room. With him sat Phil Bell of the Pegorino Family.
On the three tables to left of Emilio sat the cream of the crop of the Familia Pavano, the combined Caporegimes of the Family's Algonquin operations. Each of them wore black suits and the same continental collared shirt and white tie as Tom Fil'.
"Sally" was an unbecoming name for as mean a son-of-a-bitch as Salvatore Cassini. He was a beastly man; his hairy fingers pawed the cigar that he chomped around his blackened teeth. Next to him Riccardo Rossi, "Richy Rich", ran his gold ringed fingers through his fine grey hair as he laughed at Marco Zoff's loud-mouthed gags; the same jokes that made the twin on either side of him giggle with pink cheeks. The Hoff was reputed for his larger than life character, regardless that his wiry frame could not do justice to his moniker.
The next table seated Armando De Napoli. The shrewd and astute businessman had the unenviable task of hosting the dissimilar personalities of Roy Zito and Rocco Pelosi, invited guests from the Gambetti and Ancelotti crime Families' respectively. A task he performed with panache and a constant flow of champagne.
The band dropped a key as the red-suited trumpet player launched into a snaking series of solos spanning genres with deft ability and limitless talent. With the shift in the music, Harry Hall stood from his table with Alberto "Bleeder" Zambrotta; a name he got, not for being violent, but for his favourite burger. The Messina Family Underboss excused himself, indicating to the final front row table. "Gonna go pay my respects."
The last table was most detached from the rest and, in the corner, at a distance from Tom Fil's centre spot. To the side of the stage it offered perhaps the worst view of the performance in the room. However, from here, Maria Valvona was allowed the full panorama of the Pavano Family's gathering to mark Tommy Filippone's induction to the ranks of made men. She sat with Arthur Zapulla, Consigliere to the Family and her ex-lover.
"Your taste, as ever Maria, is exceptional," he said, placing the glass of burgundy red wine back on the table.
"Stop it, Arthur. You saw me ask for the most expensive. Taste has nothing to do with it." She waved a hand his way, part dismissive and part flirtatious.
"The exceptionality of your methods may be under scrutiny; but the results cannot be so." Arthur's smarmy tone drew a condescending look which gave way to a coy giggle as he charmed the older woman.
"Hey," snapped Arthur. "I'm just trying to get you to stop lookin' at him."
Maria glanced back to Arthur with a shocked expression. "I wasn't!" she protested, realising she had been caught gazing in Tom Fil's direction.
"You bin' doin' it since he walked in. Gonna' creep the poor kid out, he's already nervous enough tonight." Arthur spoke firmly to Maria. He was perhaps the only person fit to do so, and could see when her mind had drifted to her surreptitious young lover.
"What's she got that I don't, Arthur?" Maria questioned the beauty that sat opposite Tommy.
"What, other than youth?" Arthur's jest drew another waft of Maria's hand, this one less flirtatious and more attacking. "Innocence," he added.
Maria smiled at her old friend with a gracious knowing. "A toast," she said. "To two things you can't buy back." As the two sipped their wine, Harry Hall approached with a genial grin and a hand out-stretched to receive Maria's.
"I don't f*ckin' get it," said Tony T. Their table near the back of the room quantified their significance in the Family. "It don't really got a tune that I can tell. Is he gonna sing or somethin'?"
Jimmy Borgetto pushed his head into his hand, pained at his company for the evening. "It's jazz, you f*ck-head. This is what they do."
"I still don't get it," protested Tony T. "Jus' sounds like he's f*ckin' around on that trombone."
"Maybe it's from when your Ma dropped you," mocked Tony B, seeking a response from his dimmer companion.
"She did not," Tony T responded, defensively.
"Did so," continued Tony B. "She was tellin' me about it other night. Bit of pillow talk between rounds."
"F*ck you!" shouted Tony T.
"Ladies," interrupted Vincenzo Luca. "You gonna keep ruinin' this wonderful evenin' for me, or do you wanna shut the f*ck up?"
"Sorry, Vince," said Tony B, quick to seek an understanding with the garage's muscle.
"Em's up," observed Jimmy. "Goin' over to Maria's table." The four of them watched as Emilio approached the Family's Don. And Harry Hall, having paid his respects, head over to Tom Fil', kiss him on the cheek, and then pass him a thick white envelope.
"Maria," Emilio said in greeting. "Hey, Arthur, it's good to see you."
"Always a pleasure, Emilio," responded Arthur. "You like the band?"
"Yeah, seen 'em here a couple 'a times before. The guy sure knows his Miles." Emilio lived a second life as an aficionado of jazz.
"What's with the shirt and the tie?" enquired Arthur.
Emilio placed an awkward hand on his blue tie. "Yeah," he began, "my shirt's at Sophia's. An' this tie is all I got at the garage."
"Don't take this badly, Em," Maria interjected. "I was talking to your Jimmy earlier and he said you've slept at the garage all this week."
Emilio halted, caught off-guard by the observation made by his right-hand man. "It's nothing. It'll blow over."
"You wanna sit?" asked Arthur.
Emilio raised both hands in protest. "I don't wanna keep you. Jus' wanted to let you know how things been."
"Sure thing," responded Maria, accommodatingly. "You were down in Las Venturas last week, yeah?"
"Pretty big win, Maz," Emilio answered. "Think I might need to take the boys some time." He indicated to where his crew were sat.
Maria nodded, recognising the assiduous efforts of Emilio. Arthur raised a single hand in polite caution. "Watch you don't get in too deep with the gamblin', you get me?"
"Its fine, Arthur," responded Emilio.
"Jus' know your limits, okay." Arthurs tone was chilling and sobering. Emilio nodded in appreciation before making back to his table.
"That wasn't called for, Arthur," Maria rebuked.
"Alchy running that side o' the business," Arthur whispered in response. "Then he goes and brings f*cking Phil Bell to tonight? If he can't manage sh*t at home whats..."
They were interrupted by the appearance of Rocco Pelosi; his unruly and animated form greeting the two of them in a vulgar manner.
"Nah, it's a trumpet you 'tard. Trombone's got the slidin' thing." Vinny cupped his head in his hands again as Tony B attempted to convince Tony T of his fallacy.
Emilio walked passed them and to the bar, holding two fingers up to the barmaid. He knocked a single back before carrying the second brandy away. Approaching his crew's table, he spotted a bottle in front of Tony B.
"The hell do you think you're doing?" Emilio shouted. With one hand he smacked the bottle wildly and aggressively, its contents spilling over the table, dousing the candle in the centre, and splashing over Jimmy Borgetto's shirt. "Drinking? You forget that you're working tonight?" Emilio's shouting drew attention from across the room. "Or did you just think that you'd get drunk before?"
"But," Tony B attempted to defend himself. "It was only water."
Emilio stormed away from the table, disregarding the protests behind him. Tony B rose to follow Emilio. But, as he did, Jimmy Borgetto stopped him with a heavy palm on his chest. "Don't," he cautioned.
A steady breeze blew from the direction of Bohan, cooling Emilio's breath to a fine mist as he exited the fire escape of the Linen Lounge. He placed a hand on the steel rail to support himself as he rocked uneasily with a drunken sway. Drawing deep breaths, Emilio focussed intently on the passing cars: their headlights stinging his bleary eyes. He shifted his weight to his forearms, leaning forwards and resting them on the rail. He stared through the gap between his arms and searched visually for his feet as the concrete steps twisted and rotated beneath him. He leaned further forwards as the blurry vortex enveloped his shoes; almost squatting as he tried to get closer to them, reducing the distance between him and his focus point.
Was his lace undone? Emilio couldn't quite tell. He squinted to try and shift the fuzz, but it became no clearer. With one hand he reached to swing for his shoe. Frustratingly, his arm wasn't long enough. Gawping at his blurry shoes, and with one arm propping his nauseated body up, Emilio felt himself lurch. He swallowed something disgusting, before lurching again. Closing his eyes as he did, Emilio felt the liquor-laced torrent gush from his mouth. He groaned as he rocked his forehead on his arms, his eyes still closed, and felt a gooey dribble ooze across his lips. His feet were wet. It didn't matter about his shoelace now, he told himself.
Jimmy Borgetto emerged into the cool air to see Emilio lurch and vomit again. "Aw, sh*t," he muttered under his breath.
"Hey, boss," Jimmy said. "You alright?" He tenderly approached Emilio carrying his own leather jacket, outstretched to place over his shoulders. "It's raining, you wanna come back in here?"
Emilio looked up, not at quite Jimmy, but away from the floor. Noticing, for the first time, that it was raining, he stood upright and stumbled back towards the club. A bouncer had followed them out to see what the problem was.
"He can't come in here," the black-suited muscle said, directly and definitely.
"Who the f*ck," shouted Emilio, "do you think you are?"
"I'm Luis. Who the f*ck are you?" the bouncer responded. "Are you Jesus?"
Emilio looked confused at the bouncer. Jimmy Borgetto did his best to stay unconnected to Emilio, regardless that he was holding him to his feet.
"'Cos if you are," continued Luis, "that's fine. But otherwise nobody who's shoes are covered in their own puke's gettin' in this club."
"Lemme just go get his coat," Jimmy asked the bouncer.
Just as the situation was becoming tense, a large paw opened the door from the club. "Jimmy," said Salvatore Cassini in an affable growl. "I think you got sh*t to do. I'll sort Mr Costa out."
Salvatore didn't have Emilio's coat, but Jimmy wasn't going to make an issue of it now. He slipped passed the bouncer who eyed Salvatore with concern. "F*ck. Off." Sally spoke methodically with a deep and gravelly voice, leaving no question that the bouncer should find something else to do. Shaking his head, Luis disappeared back into the club.
"Hey, Sally," said Emilio as a large grin spread across his face.
Sally put a firm and beastly hand on Emilio's back, guiding him towards the steps. "Sit down," he insisted, forcing Emilio downwards onto the wet concrete. "You're a f*cking state." Salvatore Cassini didn't mince words. "So, it's pretty simple. Maria's asked me to run some things from your place for a while. You're gonna get back with Sophia, or you can shoot the bitch in the face. I don't give a sh*t. Just sort your crap out before I end up stuck in f*cking Alderney full time." He rubbed his chin roughly, a scraping noise resulting as his tough palms rasped his evening stubble, and chomped his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.
Emilio had heard half of what Sally had said, and not understood half of that. He grinned back at Sally: a confused response to a drunken haze. "Twotone," he murmered. "They're doin' somin' tonight."
"Already left," replied Sally. "Don't you worry your f*cked little head." Sally smiled at the humorous state of his drunken friend. "Now let's get you home."
Posted 29 July 2010 - 10:14 AM
Posted 30 July 2010 - 05:33 PM
I picked up the square glass and put it to my lips, letting yet another gulp of whiskey fall down my gullet. I shivered a bit and proceeded to stand up, no longer in the comfy recliner that I'd bought the day before. It was a present from the old man, for getting made. I still couldn't believe I was a made man now, although the ceremony was just yesterday. I thought there'd be partying and drinking and smoking and hell-raising, but for now that was confined to taking big gulps of whiskey in my recliner. So exciting. I'd spent the last four hours just drinking a few glasses and sitting around in my boxers, bored as hell. My house in Acter was that way. Just boring.
Usually, around this time on Saturday, Tony would call me and say he wanted to hit the town for a few drinks or a one night stand, but today all was silent on my end of the phone. He only lived a few houses away; he was the first occupied house around me. The rest of them were abandoned, probably because of all the mafioso activity in the area. I was really tired today considering my lack of activity, but nevertheless I managed to pull my legs up the stairs and make my way to the dresser in my bedroom. While I opened it, I tried to decide on an outfit. I wasn't sure if I'd be killing people or club hopping, so I finally reached a mental compromise: A black button-up shirt and black sport coat, followed by a pair of black trousers with my favorite black shoes. Black was a vital piece of my wardrobe. I had almost reached the stairs when I passed the bathroom and eyed my hair, which was, as I like to call it, "f*cked up."
I sighed and dragged myself into the bathroom. Sluggishly, I picked up a glob of pomade with my first three fingers, and proceeded to evenly spread it in my hair while slicking it back in the process. Finally through, I took a brush and lightly brushed my hair back for added neatness, then smiled before finally getting to walk downstairs. My cell phone then started to ring at the exact moment I hit the bottom stair, so I strutted over to the end table where it lay. Phone in hand, I hit "send" and proceeded to prompt a name.
"Yeah?" I asked, sounding quite annoyed and tough to any stranger.
"Joeeeey! Let's hit the town, you crazy S.O.B.! I'm all dressed up and everything." It was Tony. He sounded a bit drunk, but that may have been the phone. His half- Irish heritage rearing its wasted head.
"Alright, alright. You're driving this time, though." Tony could navigate his way out of a labyrinth after eight beers. I wasn't worried about his intoxication. It was actually the norm these days.
"Aw, c'mon, the chauffeur never gets to f*ck anyone, me boy." He teased.
"Exactly, and I have been your driver the last eight times we went out. How many times have I gotten my rocks off? Zero in the last eight times." I explained jokingly. It was a lie, but I think he knew.
"That's because your rocks can't get off!" He laughed hard. I could tell he was having a good time on the phone.
"Alright, keep it civil milady." I teased back.
"I'm on my way over now. See you in a minute."
"See you." I hung up and placed my hand at the entrance of my pocket, letting the cell phone fall into it.
Now I was wide awake. I put my keys in my other pocket before realizing I'd forgotten the most important thing--my holster. Ashamed I may be to admit it, but I'm a practical guy, and I wasn't about to blow my c*ck off tucking my gun into my pants. I'd bought myself a belt holster a few days ago, right after Tony gave me a huge .44 caliber pistol. I wasn't about to take that big, bulky artillery piece but I was going to take my trusty Glock 17. After sprinting upstairs to find it on my nightstand, I tucked the Glock into the holster and slid it around my back, to a position that favored concealment over ease of access. By this time, Tony was honking and cursing outside, so I quickly ran back down the stairs, turning the main locking mechanism before shutting the door behind me. I shot an annoyed middle finger at Tony, and he did the same with a sarcastic grin. Climbing into the red Coquette, I asked with a slight smile, "Alright, let's go do some sh*t!"
"Alright!" Tony yelled as he let off the brake and quickly accelerated, shifting upwards every few seconds until he'd reached fourth. He was a master of manual transmissions, even when he was f*cked. I envied that characteristic.
Before we entered the Booth Tunnel, Tony spotted a sign for Maisonette 9 and said, pointing to it, "That's where we're going. Run by a real queer, but the chicks---unbelievable."
I'd never been to that club before, so I just smiled and laid back. "If you say so."
It was quite a short drive due to Tony's wasted although fast driving. We parked about a half block away in an empty lot, for lack of a closer spot. "Let's do it." I smiled at Tony as I said it. He winked at me and walked up to the bouncer. "I.D.?" I showed mine, and Tony followed. Both of them were 100% fake. Tony went down to the dance floor, and I followed, but instead took a seat at the bar. I decided to let him go first, if you catch my drift.
I gestured for the bartender and he walked down to my end of the bar, saying, "Hey, buddy, what'll you have?"
"Cheapest vodka you got." I really didn't care when it came to vodka.
"$3.25," He said with a polite grin, walking away to fetch the drink. He returned promptly, vodka in hand, before taking the money I'd previously laid on the counter.
As I turned around to eye the dance floor, I spotted Tony being led upstairs by some blonde, which meant I had about ten minutes before my turn came. I tried hard to spread the vodka over the course of ten minutes, but finished with two minutes left. Ah, what the hell, I thought. I walked through the crowd, talking to various girls, before I met one worth talking to. We talked for about five minutes, and when I spotted Tony giving me the thumbs up from across the bar, I think she picked up the vibe. I won't go into detail, but I had quite the time in that bathroom.
We spent another two hours there, actually dancing and drinking, having the time of our lives. Tony was finishing a beer when I walked across the floor to tell him, "I'll be waiting at the car."
He nodded and motioned for me to go ahead. I did so, walking out to the car and sitting in the driver's seat. I was driving on the way home. The happiness of sleep had almost reached me when I spotted Tony walking out of the club. I started to turn the car on, but stopped short when the bouncer, followed by a second man, grabbed Tony and proceeded to drag him behind the club. Immediately I popped open the trunk and climbed out of the car, shutting the door. I grabbed the shotgun out of Tony's trunk and shut it, sprinting to the rear of the club with the shotgun in hand. When I reached the rear of the club, it was too late. I got there just in time for them to pull the knife out of Tony's stomach. I brought the gun to my shoulder, silently asking forgiveness for the sin I was to commit.
I pulled the trigger twice, the flash and noise startling me. The butt of the shotgun kicked into my shoulder, producing an all-too-familiar bruise along my shoulder. I didn't care about this, however. The two men fell hard, blood seeping through their clothes and creating a dark red patch on their shirts and a pool of dark red liquid on the ground. Immediately, I picked up Tony, moaning in agony, and put him on my shoulders in a fireman's carry. I knelt down to pick up the shotgun, balancing Tony on my shoulders as I did so. With his blood seeping onto my skin, I put him down across the street, a short distance away from his car in the same lot. I ran back to the car, opening the driver's door, and hitting the button to open the trunk. With the trunk open, I put the blood-soaked shotgun into the trunk after grabbing a towel. I shut the trunk and ran over to Tony's moaning body, applying pressure on the wound via the towel with one hand, and dialing 911 with the other via my cell phone.
"911, what is your emergency?" The operator inquired in a polite voice that conflicted the current situation.
"I need an ambulance right now, around a block south of Maisonette 9," I said in a panicky tone.
"Alright, an ambulance is on the way. Please sta---" I couldn't stay on the phone, I was too fidgety right now. I dropped the phone and it hit the cement hard, breaking as it did so. I cursed and applied even more pressure on the bloody towel. I could tell he was losing less blood now, but he still could die. A tear escaped my eye. "Don't die on me, Tony." It went on that way for around 10 minutes, when a paramedic took my place as another one fetched a gurney from the back of the ambulance. I cried more as I walked back to Tony's car. I had to drive it back to Honkers, where the guys could look after it. The paramedics said I could come check on Tony tomorrow.
It was one of the worst days of my life.
Chapter 2 end.
Chapter 3 coming soon...
Posted 02 August 2010 - 10:36 AM Edited by Build Up Your Gang, 02 August 2010 - 10:50 AM.
A decent chapter. You're obviously a fan of the Sopranos judging by the title and how you write your dialogue. It's very Soprano-ish, which is good. It makes it feel realistic, especially since the mobsters in real life talk just like that.
The problem as I see it is between your dialogue. Your characters interact with each other, but we as the readers only understand their emotions by reading the dialogue. Between your strings of dialogue you need to put in characters face expessions and own thoughts. Your chapter sorely lacked that.
Much better. You explained everything in a better than than you did in your previous chapter. Combined with the killer dialogue from chapter 2, this one was great.
I'll have to be honest with you man, your chapter was quite dull. I felt nothing when Kev's "friend" was killed, and Kev didn't seem to do either. You need to cut down on the action and focus more on the relationship between the characters.
Mr.c TO the J
Very good first chapter. Your BUYG career looks promising man. What I would like you to do in your upcoming chapters is to let the readers get to know your characters more. The story was well written but as long we don't know the characters we can't care for them.
I can't add you to the Honkers though since the place is already occupied. You need to pick an other location. I can't give you the money either.
Good for a first chapter. What you need to do however is to create some space between your sentences, otherwise it gets very hard to read. Your story looks promising though.
Damn everybody seem very Sopranos-influenced, great! This chapter was much better than your first. You split up the sentences in a good way and the story is getting more and more intersting. However, I think you could've done Tony's fate a cliffhanger instead. That would make people want to read your next chapter.
Rated by Rucke
Posted 02 August 2010 - 11:45 PM
|QUOTE (Build Up Your Gang @ Aug 2 2010, 20:36)|
| A lot of 1st chapters, that's good!|
Rated by Rucke
Rucke! Ole buddy, ole mate!
Thank you muchly for doing the ratings!
(I'll admit, I have not had a free weekend, much less a free evening, in a while. I'm sorry, everybody. This will improve.)
Posted 05 August 2010 - 11:58 PM Edited by vinnygorgeous, 06 August 2010 - 06:22 PM.
Gambetti Crime Family
Leisure Centre crew
1:The Resurgence Will Not be Televised
They say the mafia is on its knees. Two decades of determined attacks by the state have left us shattered, disorganized and with zero influence. We say: good let ‘em think that, hell we’ll do all we can to bolster that opinion. The reality is we’ve done what the Sicilians call: going back to the caves.
Take the running of this crew, one of the last to still be based at a social club. Making it an obvious target for the feds, that coupled with the fact that it’s the Sammy Botino crew and it’s a pretty safe bet that its constantly under surveillance.
The guys that come here on a daily basis are the guys that firstly; we don’t care if they get pinched and secondly it’s no big deal to whack ’em. The big earners nowadays have to be invisible, hidden away from prying eyes so only the bosses know who they are.
Sadly I don’t fall into that category, I used to be a big earner back when we still had the garbage. For years I controlled the fate of all the commercial garbage haulers in mid town, fifty companies all paid dues, and we doled out the stops. The only people who suffered were the businesses who could easily afford mob inflated bills. But since the last mayor’s crackdown with blacklists and new licensing laws we can’t get near it, every time we set up shop the carters all go to the cops, times have changed all right.
So now I’m expendable, I’m the visible leader of the crew, an acting capo, ‘cept I aint. The higher-ups think I’m loyal enough to relay orders through but not talented enough to be shielded. It’s the new class system in the family- the pawns and the earners.
Most days I’m at the Leisure Centre on Denver Avenue but like I say mob social clubs are a thing of the past, most crews are based in the backrooms of mushroom factories, drycleaners, drywall fitters even animal sanctuaries. Anything that’s out of sight and critically there never used as hubs for wiseguys to keep each other informed with what their doing.
The only reason they keep this place open is because of the history of it, back in the day it was used by Lucky himself then later king Neil and more recently the late Don Gravelli. The family wants to keep a pocket of the old ways alive. It helps with recruitment, sympathy of the jurors and stuff like that.
So what do we do here, it’s the basics really, mainly bookmaking and loan-sharking, apart from myself there is one other made guy based here, a lot of associates, mainly young guys looking for a way in, willing to turn over most of what they earn in the hope of being straightened out one day. In the last couple of years the standard of wannabes has improved, five years ago there only seemed to be drug dealers, but you can’t make ‘em. Officially they only have to go five years without a drug arrest but in reality you’d have to be someone’s son to get the benefit of that rule. But now we’re getting some real smart kids coming up, computer whizzes or guys that can orchestrate complex tax and insurance scams, those are the ones the bosses will make.
The club was usually pretty quiet till the mid afternoon and by this time in the early evening its bustling. It’s a pretty dark place but not dingy, its just the fact that it was built more like a bunker than a typical city premise, the small windows with metal grills covering them don’t let in much light. There are three circular tables that can each seat five or six, a small bar with the customary mob picture above it- a cockroach beneath the words, ‘Our Bugs Have Ears’. There are green leather seats that stretch around the walls and a giant plasma television mounted on the back wall.
It had been a slow day so I found myself playing cards with an old timer called Massimo Mozetti but we all called him Mo Moe, he was a nice enough guy, he’d been in the neighbourhood for years, he owned a tobacconist around the corner but he left his sons to run it. He wasn’t involved with the life, he just liked hanging out here. The other players were three young wannabes, two of them I knew well; Donnie Salsone and Nicky Spoleti, the third was the newest face at the club Joseph Sessa.
“I grew up in Broker, minchia that place has changed, the Italians used to be all over, even Hove Beach, that’s where my family lived till I was twelve.” Moe always talks about the old days, some guys find it annoying but I liked to listen to the guy. He rubbed his chin whilst carefully inspecting his cards then added, “I’ll check.”
“Little Odessa was an Italian neighbourhood Sh*t! I’ll check too.” Nicky was a good kid, I was pretty sure he had a drug problem but if I can’t keep my own kid off drugs how am I gonna stop a guy like Nicky.
“I’ll bet ya, fifty.” Donnie was pretty typical of the young wannabes here, brash, violent and determined to emulate the gangster lifestyle he’d seen in the movies and on television. As a poker player he was pretty predictable though, the only time he raised was when he had a strong hand, so I folded.
“Me too, I’m out.” Joe seemed different from the other wannabes, he wasn’t from Liberty City for a start, he’d moved here two years ago from Vice City and had been moving jewellery ever since. I’m not sure where he gets his stones but he seems to make decent money at it.
“It was a Jewish neighbourhood but there were Italians too. East Hook and Rotterdam Hill were Italian neighbourhoods. Beechwood City was a white working class neighbourhood with Italians, Jews and Irish all mixed together, so was the South Slopes. Broker back then…” Moe drifted off into his own world momentarily, just staring mournfully out of the window, “I fold.”
“Call,” Nicky must be sitting on a good hand too, like Donnie he rarely bluffed. “I got two pair, fives and twos.”
“Three aces muthaf*cka.” Donnie took the pot.
“Johnny Boy, phone.” Gino Capozzo called from behind the bar, his ample frame made him almost impassable but I managed to squeeze through. I grabbed the phone from his hand, “Yeah.”
“Call this number on an outside line; two, seven, eight, six, five, five, five, one, three, zero, zero.” I recognized the voice, it meant a drive out to Alderney.
Posted 06 August 2010 - 03:35 PM
Posted 11 August 2010 - 07:45 AM Edited by pro.assassin, 11 August 2010 - 10:26 AM.
soz guys missed this post:
|For the nine billion three hundred and seventy-five million, ninety-four thousand and eight hundred and seventeeth time... when you have written your story, and that story has been rated, and you are the first to have written for that location and gang combination, and it isn't already occupied, then staff will add you to the location on the front page. Sorry, it's just we don't save spots for "soon" participants. But, write and it's yours.|
i will start writing and post A.S.A.P, i am sorry about this mistake i missed the post, but am now writing.
Posted 11 August 2010 - 11:24 AM
Chapter 1: A bad day
I wake up and grab my alarm clock, I press alarm off. And the clock stops beeping. I walk to my wardrobe full of clothes and police items from when I was a cop, I grab a jumper and slide it on. I grab my car keys and leave the room locking the door behind me. I open the door of my Rebla and sit on the seat, I turn the ignition on and the car fails to start. I retry, this time it starts with a purr of the engine. I arrive at the deli and buy breakfast, lotto, the street car magazine and some coffee. When I leave the deli I see two bums fighting over a steak found in the ally beside the deli. I start driving home when I see flames coming from the direction of my house and speed up, I see my apartment in flames and two gang members yelling at each other,
“I will not work for you any more Petrovic!” screams the one holding a Molotov. The person who I guess is Petrovic the leader of the Petrovic Bratva, starts trying to calm the insane gang member. I get out and walk toward the fighting group, Petrovic leaps at me, taking me to the ground.
“look out he could have hit you with that Molotov” he says getting off me. I look the other way to see my car on fire. Petrovic grabs a combat pistol and shoots the insane gang member in the head.
Petrovic turns to me.
“now to make sure you keep your mouth shut” he says aiming a gun at my head. The whole Petrovic Bratva sneers at my nearing death. I then Disarm Petrovic’s gun and aim at his head, I hear clicks the Bratva swing their guns out, I could feel them aiming at me. I could end one of the biggest crime families in LC, though I would lose my life trying. Then Petrovic signals for everyone to lower their guns.
“how would you like to work for me?” Petrovic asks me.
“alright.” I reply lowering my gun, this may give me a chance to get Petrovic alone and take him out. Petrovic walks me to his car and we sit in the back while the Bratva member drives us to a hangout. We arrive at the hang out a little while later, it was an adult shop in broker, near my apartment. We walk in and walk into a backroom. Petrovic shows me a door.
“through there is your new house” He says looking at the door. I open the door to see a huge living room and bedroom.
“thanks” I say, I had nothing else to say. Petrovic opens a slider door and it reveals a selection of weaponry. I turn around and Petrovic hands me a set of car keys, I exit the shop and he points out a dark grey Rebla.
“that ones your new car” I walk over to the car and two cars slide in front of me, Petrovic starts shooting. The gang members ignore me and return fire on Petrovic. I sprint inside and grab a micro-SMG as I come outside the gang members now see me as a threat and start shooting me too. I return fire taking one down. Petrovic aims up and shoots a dangling sign, which falls onto the 1st car. I shoot and with success hit a gas tank in the open, it blows up killing the rest of the gang members
“Good shooting” Petrovic compliments. I place my gun back on the shelf and reload it. I shut the door to my room and lay in bed, I grab my phone and call my girlfriend Denise.
“darling I’m sorry, but we have to see less of each other from now on. I have a job now and I will be working away.” I speak clearly through the microphone.
“call me when we can meet up then” Denise starts to cry a bit, I say bye and hang up. Petrovic opens the door and asks me if I want to go and help a drug deal tomorrow.
“sorry Petrovic, I have plans, maybe another time.” Petrovic leaves the room and I lay in bed until I fall asleep
thats my first chapter for adult shop so please add me to petrovic bratva and rate, i want to know how to improve, if i am let in i have some good chapters planned to be written and published.
want to know what is going to happen next chapter? dont want to wait to find out? PM me and i will give you a description of whats going to happen.
Posted 12 August 2010 - 07:29 AM
Chapter 2 ~ a sh*t deal
I awake in my room, and look around. it’s the first time I have noticed the room pain and pictures. I grab a set of clothes and get changed, I don’t wear my best clothing incase of a war now. As I leave the room I grab a coat and lock he door behind me. I walk into the back room of the adult shop, its empty. I walk toward the saircase leading out and someone calls me
“hey you! Petrovic left me to give you this letter.” I look back it’s the guy at the counter. I open the envelope , pull out the note and read:
We have gone to the drug deal in the Algonquin, we are near the prison in an abandoned area with pipes, come along if you want to stop by you may.
I place the envolope and note down and head up the stairs. My phone rings and I answer it.
“Jonny I will re-enstate you with your badge if you help us catch an escaping prisoner near Algonquin prison.” it was the general of police. I quickly hang up the phone and bolt into my car and drive as fast as possible to Algonquin. I enter the premisses of the drug deal and bolt up toward Petrovic.
“Petrovic! The cops are searching for an escaping prisoner. They might be heading this way we must get out of here now!” Petrovic grabs the money he is using to buy drugs and stuffes it into his pockets.
“deal’s off fellas” Petrovic says quikly. We bolt for our cars when the enemy gang members aim guns at us and tell us to stop. I grab my pistol and shoot at the enemy gang, Petrovic crabs a pump shotgun from under the seat of the Rebla and shoots aswell. We hear cop sirens and stop shooting each other and start running away. Two SWAT trucks block the exits. I drive Petrovic away by ramming through a fence and escaping. Petrovic tells me to park in an abandoned lot near by. Theres a girl standing in the open, its Petrovic’s girlfriend Marie. They walk to each other and hug. I grab a smoke from my pocket and move away to start smoking, I hear a sniper shot and Petrovic screams. I look up and see a peron running in a tall building. I bolt up to intercept him. I tackle the guy and he pushes me away. I grab his foot and twist, his body oes to the right and he goes though a window. He lands in a puddle of oil. Petrovic walks to him, the guy tries to slam Petrovic into the oil but only Petrovic’s left hand goes in. Petrovic picks up the guy and grabs a Molotov, he lights it in his left hand. I yell as loud as I can.
“Petrovic no!” Petrovic ignores me and pushes the Molotov into the guys face, both the guy’s head and Petrovic’s hand are on fire from the oil. I run as fast as I can down to Petrovic, I put out his burning hand, but it is black and dead.
“we must get you to a hospital” I say to Petrovic.
“no. she‘s dead and nothing can bring her back.” Petrovic cries
“but what about you Petrovic” I reply as if Petrovic didn’t understand me.
“they cant fix my heart, this motherf*cker‘s death cheered me up a little, though nothing can bring marie back. Nothing at all.” Petrovic starts crying more. I lead Petrovic to the car.
“we will bury her body, not just et it rot.” Petrovic is starting to cry less now, but I can see he is still really sad inside. We pick up marie’s body and place it in the trunk. We drive all the way to the cemetery, Petrovic rips some ones grave stone up and engraves a piece of writing:
Beloved by Kenny Petrovic.
You will never be forgotten - Kenny.
I dig the hole and we place marie’s body in the hole. Petrovic places the grave stone and I fill the hole with dirt.
“I am going to kill the gang who sent that guy to kill her.” Petrovic swings open the door of my car and starts driving away. I run up to a guy in a pink Rebla and rip him out, I drive as fast as I can to catch up to Petrovic, though he had already left the island.
I arrive at the adult shop where some guys of the Bratva are sitting having a beer.
“Marie has died, Petrovic is now taking out a gang. He will not return for a while.” I announce to the members. I hear a lot of murmors and then someone steps forward.
“it wasn‘t the gang who Petrovic thinks killed marie. It was us.” The member stands there with sorrow.
“why did you guys do that?” I am really shocked now.
“marie was making Petrovic into a gentleman. So he wouldn‘t fight in this gang” the member looks a bit happy that he had got her killed.
“but why, whats wrong with Petrovic being a good guy?” I am very curious now.
“she was a cop, once she had got him as a gentleman she was going to put him behind bars, she was making him an easy target” I am now shocked.
“whats Petrovic‘s number?” I am now worried that Petrovic is going to make a nemises gang.
“what you gunna dob us in?”
“yes, Petrovic deserves to know the truth.” I watch as if they are going to kill me. Petrovic runs in the door.
“Jonny wheres Mark?” Petrovic is puffing heavily, and I can just understand him.
“whos Mark?” I am going to tell Petrovic now what has happened.
“he‘s obviously not here.” Petrovic starts climbing the stairs
“Petrovic wait!” Petrovic stops and comes back.
“what?!” I start telling Petrovic the story that I was told. I can feel all the Bratva staring at me as if they were going to kill me. Petrovic sits down with is head bent in sorrow.
“’why didn’t you guys tell me earlier?’
“we didn’t want you to get angry at us” they say in unison, surprised that Petrovic isn’t aiming a gun at their heads.
“well I wonder if we will have the cops stopping by. She knows our hang outs.” Petrovic starts odering guards to the hangouts, when this skinny member sprints in the hideout.
“Petrovic Mark‘s dead!” he manages to sya inbetween puffs.
“take me to the area where he waas killed” Petrovic replies fast. As we leave the hideout a member with blood on his shirt enters the shop. We all get into cars and follow the guy who reported Mark dead, we arrive at a clearing in broker, Petrovic looks around. Then looks back at us all.
“Sonny!” Petrovic yells running over to the guy who reported Mark dead. We leave the area fast, scared for our lives.
Posted 15 August 2010 - 10:25 PM
Posted 16 August 2010 - 07:13 PM
Posted 16 August 2010 - 08:03 PM Edited by apm54, 17 August 2010 - 12:50 AM.
Jonas and I pull up to the Triangle Club at about 7:55 PM. We get out of our blue Vigero and look around, but see nothing out of the ordinary.
I take out my phone and call Josh. " Hey Josh, what are we supposed to be looking for ?"
"Someone told Dwayne that they had overheard two members of the M.O.B. talking about attacking The Triangle Club late tonight, you and Jonas are there as extra security."
"Ok man", I reply, "I'll talk to ya later."
I put away the phone and walked up to the security guard by the door.
"What are you doing here Jermaine?"
"Josh says that the Triangle Club may get attacked today, but he doesn't know for sure." I reply. "Tell the other guards to be ready."
I go back to the car and sit inside with Jonas, listening to The Classics radio station. About two hours later, we get attacked. I quickly get out of the car and get behind a wall. Jonas is using the car as cover. I cover Jonas with my Micro SMG while he moves from car to car, getting closer to the members of the M.O.B. You can hear civilians screaming and see them running from the club. I shoot one enemy gang member as he pops up from behind his cover, and Jonas gets up close and kills two of the gang members. The two remaining M.O.B members try to flee, but i kill them before they can make it around the corner.
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