Posted 21 November 2010 - 03:41 PM
Edited by Osric, 21 November 2010 - 04:14 PM.
Okay, here's my first story in almost a year. May not be the best, but it's a start....
Also, for those who don't know, Da is Russian for yes. No, I don't know Russian, just how to say yes and no.
Finally, I'd like to buy an Assault Rifle for the Petrovic Bratva.
The Petrovic Bratva
Chapter I: In The Beginning....
It was a cold day in Liberty City, and an icy, piercing wind blew over the streets of Broker. The poor immigrants struggled to survive in Broker, while the street gangs did their nine-to-five thing: dealing drugs, stealing goods, killing innocent people, and selling their little sisters for ten bucks. Things suck here in Broker, especially for us Russians. The Cold War's been over for almost twenty years, but the locals still look down on us. Even other immigrants and ethnic minorities don't trust us, simply because of a failed communist regime that's been dead for two decades.
My name is Yuri, I'm a 23-year old associate of the Petrovic Bratva, and this is my story.
I was sitting in Comrades Bar, a dingy old dive in Hove Beach, the immigrant district of Broker. My boss, Mr. Tambov, was sitting in his office at the backroom of the bar. I was just sitting at the bar, drinking some soda. I never drank hard liquor, and rarely ever had beer. I've had a glass of red wine with Sunday dinner every once in a while, but that was really it. I really hated the associations between Russians and alcoholism, and I never liked the bitter, burning taste of alcohol anyway. I preferred the clean, crisp, lemony taste of my soda.
That, and in my line of work, you never want to be drunk. If you're a gangster in the largest Russian Mafia syndicate in America, you have to keep your wits about you. Never let your guard down. Especially in Liberty City. If you fall there, nobody will catch you.
Grigor, the bouncer and one of my fellow associates, walked up to me. Grigor was a tall man, in his late twenties, and he was very imposing and menacing-looking. Yet, if you were his friend, he was one of the nicest people to hang out with.
He came up to me and said "Yuri, Mr. Tambov wants to talk with you. He says he needs you."
I got up, and followed Grigor to the office. It was a nice, clean office, especially in comparison to the dark, dusty barroom in Comrades. At the desk was my boss, Boris Tambov, a lieutenant of the Petrovic Bratva. He was a well-dressed and relatively eloquent man, wearing a suit and tie, and he was talking on the phone.
"Yes, Mr. Petrovic. I understand. Don't worry, I'll send some of my associates on it."
He finally went off the phone, and hung up. He turned to me....
"Ah, Yuri! How are you doing?"
"Fine, Mr. Tambov. You said you needed me?"
"Da, comrade. I was just on the phone with Mr. Petrovic, that's right, the Pakhan himself. He said that a street gang called M.O.B is causing trouble in Broker, dealing drugs all over the borough. Normally, we don't care if they sell a joint here or there. Hell, we can't stop those damn Albanian gangsters from making meth and pushing heroin here in Hove Beach, even though we want to. But this is different. Kenny Petrovic's nephew, Hank Petrovic, was critically injured in a drive-by. We know that M.O.B gangbangers were involved."
I was shocked.
"How is Hank doing? Is he even still alive?"
Mr. Tambov continued...
"He's in the hospital, staying in intensive care. He'll make a full recovery as it was only soft tissue wounds, but the fact that those gangbangers would shoot a civilian is disgusting. Hank was never involved with our business, and he was just walking down Firefly Projects when he was gunned down. When Lenny Petrovic was killed, that was one thing, he was being groomed to be the next Pakhan, but Hank's just an innocent college kid. He's just trying to get his teaching degree. I want you and Grigor to meet up with my buddy Andrei. We're going to give the M.O.B leader a message. Their leader's name is Josh Moore, and he, and all of his gangbanger buddies are attending his brother's funeral. His brother was murdered by the North Holland Hustlers, and now we can use his funeral as an opportunity to kill Moore. If you guys can, maybe you could even pop some of their soldiers. Just don't kill any women or children, I don't think they'll be wearing the gang colors, so you should be fine. Keep your trigger on Moore, and any of his bodyguards. Andrei has some guns, all of them stolen so they can't be traced to you."
I gulped. This would be my first hit. And it would be one hell of a hit.