BUYG: Build Up Your Gang IV
Posted 25 January 2011 - 03:44 AM
Posted 25 January 2011 - 04:41 AM
Posted 25 January 2011 - 02:38 PM
Posted 25 January 2011 - 10:31 PM
Posted 26 January 2011 - 01:13 AM
|QUOTE (Osric @ Jan 26 2011, 08:31)|
|I know I'm not the only one who's asking, but why are we unpinned and when is BUYG Volume II coming out?|
Can't answer the second one ("Volume II" soooo makes BUYG sound like a 70's rock band), but I have noticed three people ask the first question: I'm willing to bet they had a clean-out over the past few days. And we weren't the only ones, with two other topics/threadz getting unpinned, too.
But, just to be sure, I've PMed Saintdave.
Posted 26 January 2011 - 01:35 AM
Also, Aragond, make sure you reply to my PM soon.
Posted 26 January 2011 - 04:02 AM
|QUOTE (Francis Szumilo @ Jan 25 2011, 04:41)|
|I can't wait to begin the new BUYG: IV! I've got some wicked sh*t planned for the Ancelotti and maybe some other gangs that may cross paths with them? Ah, it'll be great.|
in my first chapter of my story for the pavanos, the ancelotti leadership get wipe out by the lupisella and the new leadership declares war on the lupisellas, we can cross our stories
Posted 26 January 2011 - 04:52 AM
Posted 26 January 2011 - 08:45 PM
Posted 26 January 2011 - 09:16 PM
Posted 27 January 2011 - 12:47 AM
Posted 27 January 2011 - 02:02 AM
|QUOTE (VinnieLeone @ Jan 27 2011, 00:47)|
|my story is 2011 and in like new war. Remeber Jon GRAVELLI is dead messinas hav a rat the commission is in shambles.|
Gravelli's heir was Roy Zito, in which he would take over the commission. The Messina's are not important in a Lupisella-Ancelotti war, they were never really important the whole time. If anything, the Messina's are just chump hoods who struck a stroke of luck, and made the commission because of Jon Gravelli's leadership. I've got sh*t planned for the Gambetti's and the Messina's anyway. The commission would still be very much intact, just because Gravelli died doesn't mean the commission would fall, the commission has gone many generations, new leaders, new rules. No biggie.
Posted 27 January 2011 - 04:05 AM
Posted 27 January 2011 - 07:14 AM Edited by VinnieLeone, 27 January 2011 - 07:47 AM.
I will be writing for the Pavanos and I’ll buy some land for them The Pillows Club, Cerveza Heights Dukes
Chapter 1: A New Castellamarse War
A lot of people say that the 1950’s was the mafia’s golden age, I think the age never really left.
The 90’s established the basic rat f*ck who would betray his own to save his own skin.
The 2000’s brought the F.I.B cracked down on us, but the Five Families, lets face it, not an molecule of power has left us. My name is Simon “Joey” Scarfo-Palermo, I’m Acting Capo for my boss Paulie DeCicco.
The Commission has decided that they milked Liberty for all she’s worth and time to move down south., Las Venturas is untouchable thanks to the Galante Family, and Carcer City is now in the Leone Family hands, both rising families ready to snatch power away from the Five Families, but the Ancelotti, Pavano, and Gambetti still have ties to the old country, the only thing protecting us. Now Florida was Cipriano Family turf, but they are willing to due business with us. I earned my bones during the Pegorino-Pavano War when I whacked Pegorino’s consigliore. I don’t know what Alderney is doing now but they’re making money with those two timing bikers. But anyway, my best friends aren’t even Italian, well with the exception of Rocco, their Irish. Noah and Saint Michael are the funniest, caring, psychopathic killers a man could ever have. With their ties, I “acquired” this old bar from the Cipriano’s… someplace called Sonny’s Palace.
(Two years ago)
Suffolk, Liberty City
(In the snowy night streets, mobster walk blocks to avoid FIB agents listening to their conversations.)
“Listen, Joey you’re in good terms with Don Ancelotti’s daughter, see if you can get her to get him to agree about da thing?” Paulie said.
“Da thing?, Es Madonna el facile! You need to learn english!” I exclaimed
“Oh!, you don’t go correcting made guys, that will get you clipped joe!” He said angrily,
“Look I didn’t mean anything by it.” I said patiently and carefully placing my hand on his shoulder.
“ I know, but not everyone in the mob went to State, but anyhow you need to get with the thing, and get that girl.” He said
“Joe, this is a big step from going to Alderney, or even Carcer; we’re going to Florida!” He said joyfully.
“Sure, but I like it up here, it’s all nice and cold, it’s my town Paulie.” I pleaded
“Joe, this comes from the top, big payout for you and the family, we need that business joe!” He stated.
“The whole balance of war might hit us if we don’t!” he said before slipping on some ice.
“Oh sh*t, paulie are you okay!?” I asked worried
“Does it look I’m okay, you f*cking ape, help me!” He said grinding his teeth in pain.
“I think I broke something , get me to the car!” he said with effort
“Paulie you’re hearts beating fast, f*ck it I’m calling the paramedics.” I said reaching for my phone
“Liberty City EMT, what the emergency?” a lady said
“Help my uncle is having some sort of heart issue, he slipped on some ice, his heart is racing really fast and his leg is broke, please send help; I’m on the corner of Exton Ave and 3rd.” I said, while holding paulie’s head on my lap, he is turning cold. “HELP!!!” I yelled, “Help!!”…
Two minutes later, the ambulance comes, the put him on the lift and settled it into the ambulance. I hopped in the back with him before they closed the doors. I held his hand till we got to the hospital.
Two Hours later
Cerveza Heights, Dukes
Pavano Family hangout and front at Pillows Club.
I walked in with a gloomed face and cold heart. I felt a looming presences I haven’t felt since my father’s death and my ex girlfriend’s “disappearance” .
“What’s wrong Joey?” Noah asked
“Yeah, look like someone took a sh*t on your car.” Vito said.
“Paulie is in a coma, doctor says he doesn’t know how long he will be in.” I said sitting down.
“sh*t, everything in the city is going to hell, Old man Ancelotti gets whacked, Don Gravelli died and f*cking Volpe is a rat!!” Vito said.
“Whoa, what?” I asked surprised.
“Yeah, rumor says that Mad Dog went crazier he decided to wipe the Ancelottis clean off the grid.” He continued.
“Fredo Volpe of the messina’s turned state evidence against the whole commission.” He concluded.
“But damn Paulie, what happened?” Noah asked.
“We were talking about Vice City at the triangles club and he we left for Suffolk; we got there walked and talked and he slipped on some ice. He started freaking out, turning cold and bada bing his is out cold!” I said. “Wait?, you went to the Triangle’s Club?” Vito said. He looked at two other enforcers.
“What?” I asked suspiciously, “Joey, that was no accident, Mad Dog most have drugged his drink with thallium, it’s the only thing I know that f*cks you up like that.” he said. “Whoa I thought he was wiping the Ancelottis not us!” I said banging my hand on the bar table. “Mad Dog, he… I guess he is tired of being the fourth, my guess is that he’ll try to clip the messinas too.” Vito said while loading his pump shotgun.
“sh*t, I gonna stop by Marco’s and find Fat Tony.” He said.
“ You mean “going to”.” I said.
“Look-” He said before being cut off by Noah.
“I’m going to Opium Nights, to catch some sleep, calm down Vito he didn’t mean nothing by it.” he said with thickly dense accent.
“Yeah, me too, can I catch a ride with you?” I asked Noah,
“Yes, but don’t stink up my car with your tomato sauce smelling feet.” He said jokingly.
“Let’s stop buy Al Dente’s on our way.” I said while getting into the car.
Noah and I both were in the service in Afghanistan and Ireland. Noah was a former S.A.S. Operative, he knew his sh*t. I was a ranger, I got a honorable discharge in 2004, at the rank of command sergeant major. Noah is six foot-two with a long brown beard, his eyes are greenish blue. He often smokes cigars from Mexico and often claims to have ties to Cuba. He is quite built, looks like the f*cking terminator. He is catholic like myself, but he goes as far as praying before each hit and he has a tattoo of a large cross on his back. He has another tattoo on his right and reading “Nomine Patris” and his brother Saint Michael has Et Filii” on his left hand, riding his index finger, and my right index finger has a tattoo saying “Spiritus Sancti”. Saint Michael, is Noah’s brother who looks exactly alike but are not twins. I mean down to their balls they are identical, but their years apart. The only way you can tell them apart is that Michael doesn’t have a beard. But anyhow we crossed the Algonquin bridge, the city lights illuminated the snow, kind of looked like superman’s ice fortress. “So, what now Joey?” Noah asked. “Paulie is comatose and the family needs a new captain, think you can fill the shoes?” he said. “You know if the boss knew that you knew half the sh*t you know, you will be dead.” I exclaimed, Noah looked grimed for a second, “But they don’t know.” he said with a smirk. “I don’t know, I mean what if this war pops off before Florida? You know how I fill about killing? And after what happened to Rocco I can’t forgive myself if you or anybody gets hurt.” I said trying not to bring those memories back, “ Says the man who whacked a guy with seven kids, you’re only hit as a made guy you barely could have done it if I wasn’t there.” He said before pulling over at my apartment. “Vito will hit Mad Dog, this war will be costly, but remember one thing, we always got Florida!” he said while laughing, then he drove off. I pull out my keys from my back pocket and searched for my door key on the loop. The snow has stopped falling and the winter breeze fells as if god’s cold hand was grabbing my soul, my body is in chills. I finally found the key and unlocked my door. I looked at my apartment, filled with materials, memories and regrets. I walked over to my love seat, and sat down. Upon sitting I looked at my brown and tarnish coffee table, I saw a crumbled piece of paper and saw a name, I picked up the paper and looked hard… “sh*t!!” raced across my mind. I look for my car keys and my jacket and raced out the door. The piece of paper said “Rahiza”, then at that moment I realized I left my girlfriend at work. I hopped in our sentinel, and raced to Lancaster where she was waiting. “Damn, she is not going to be happy.” I thought. I pulled up next to the bus stop where I found her, she was not happy.
“I can’t believe you Simon, I don’t know why you do this to me!” she cried
“Baby, I’m sorr-” I tried to talk but she slapped me in the mouth.
“Don’t talk, take me home now.” She demanded
“But!” I said, but then just drove home.
“You always do this, I’m going back to brazil I can’t stand you!” she rampaged on.
“Simon!, Simon! Look at me, pull over and look at me now!” she demanded.
As she wished I pulled over and looked at her, suddenly her wave of insults stopped. She looked into my eyes and I saw from the reflection in her eyes, one teardrop popped out of my left eye. “I’m sorry Rahiza, I love you, I was busy, my uncle is in the hospital and I’m under a lot of stress, I understand how upset you are. I will pack my things.” I said, I opened the door and felt a tug on my coat. I turned around and she looked at me and pleaded “No, Simon I’m sorry, it’s my fault I was with Sara and Karen I was the one late.”
“No, baby I was wrong, I’m going to go!” I said, knowing she will demand that I get back in the car.
As I walked away I counted down to where she will break “1,…2,..3,…4...”; “Wait, Simon, come back I’m sorry.” she cried. I turned around and looked at her, tears raced down her flawless brown cheeks to her curvy torso. Next thing I know, we are the apartment kissing, licking, tickling …you name it.
(The Next Morning)
I woke up to find myself sitting down in the loveseat with Rahiza on my lap, I carefully moved her to the bed and tucked her in. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My black wavy hair was matted and bed head like. So after five action packed minutes of combing my hair, I began to wash my face, brush my teeth and take a shower. Rahiza woke up and walked into the bathroom. She pulled back the curtain and she look angry… again. “You did it again!” She said. “What?” I asked sarcastically. “You know, I’m gonna leave it alone, I gotta go see my dad.” she said. “I’m taking the car, you need anything?” she continued.
“No, I hope your dad isn’t coming over again, him and Rocco don’t get along so well.” I said.
“Why was Rocco here anyway?” She asked
“He needed to use the phone, I still remember that day.” I said
“Okay grandma, happy birthday I love you!” Rocco said on the phone
“Huh, who was that?” Dad said.
“Wha-What?” Rocco asked confused
“Who was that on the phone?!” Dad demanded
“My grandma its her birthday today.” Rocco said nervously
“Oh, it’s her birthday!, Just because its her birthday today I’m supposed to notice, Huh!” Dad said angrily
“Uh, no I just!” Rocco muttered before being cut off by Dad’s “Huh”
“It just her birthday I thought I give her a call!” Rocco said confused
“Bullsh*t, I fought in Vietnam for you, and you’re going to tell that your f*cking grandmother is more important?!” Dad said angrily
“Sir, I don’t think anyone is more important than anyone else, I was just calling my grandmother.” Rocco replied “Son, I have three testicles , you have any idea what’s that’s like?! Eh!!!!!!!!” Dad replied an in even higher fit of rage. “I.. I really… have no idea what that has to do with any of the prior conversation!” Rocco pleaded
“You know what you kids lack to today, RESPECT!, it’s always respect! Always!!” Dad yelled
“Sir, I’m…I’m 34 years old, I never met you in my entire life!” Rocco said.
“Wait a minute ,Wait a minute, Wait a minute this isn’t Julio Jimenez, you‘re not my son ?!” Dad said confused
“No, Uh my name is Rocco.” Rocco said worried.
“Wait, Wait, Wait so you’re not my son? Dad said.
“No!” Rocco said.
“f*ck!!” Dad yelled
“Sir, it‘s...its fine it’s okay!” Rocco pleaded
“Well Julio now that I received this information I guess I owe you an apology, I’m sorry, have a great afternoon, and uh I have to go beat my son.” Dad said in a correct american accent.
“What the f*ck just happened?” Rocco asked.(Flash back over)
Rahiza left for her dad’s place, and I called Noah to pick me up.
Noah said that he got the tickets for Florida and he got the boys at the airport waiting for us.
He also said the Roy Z whacked Mad Dog and is repairing the commission, The new Ancelotti Boss was Carmine Lucchese was a guy who rose the mob ranks during the whole Italian-Russian mob conflict.
Carmine was old school, rumor goes back to Drusilla restaurant . The owner was a Pegorino soldier, he was in debt to Carmine, 5k in cash. Legend says that Carmine simply touched his hand and the guy gave him twenty thousand cash. So I hung up the phone and waited on my steps for Noah. (19 minutes later)
His green sultan pulls up, he handed me a pistol. “When we get down there, we need to go see this rat, and end him.” Noah said, “Who is he?” I asked. “Look, worry about it later, we need to go.” He said.
I got in and we drove to F.I.A. Vito, Rocco, Michael and Mickey were sitting on Rocco’s car.
“Hey, put your guns is the bag, we’re going around to catch our plane.” Rocco said. We walked to the control gate wear an employee let us in. Our plane was a private jet, Paulie’s private jet.
As we climbed in a I found Fat Tony sitting down with a food tray of baccala. I put my bags down and sat down across from Fat Tony, who was staring at me with great dedication. Vito pulled me over and said, “Roy sent him to watch the deal go down, he is just reading you stay calm.” I turned back to look back at Tony. We stared at each other for hours before we both gave up. “ I like you, the name’s Tony Corrado, but you can call me Fat Tony.” He said “Yes I heard Vito mention you before.” I said
“Good, I’m Roy’s Underboss, I run all the window projects in Liberty. I’m also head of security during commission meetings.” “Cool, I’m going to catch some sleep, good to meet you Tony.” I said getting ready for sleep. (4 hours later) I woke up and the shiny sun of Vice City, was shrieking into my eyes with blinding rage. Outside I saw a dark red limo, outside the limo was around fifth teen bodyguards and behind them was our Don, Carlo DiMeo. I stepped out the plane and shook his hand. “Well, welcome to florida, I hear you are a good earner Joey.” He said to me, at first I said nothing, but then I spoke up. “Don Carlo, yes I’m a great earner, it’s an honor.” I said. “I’m sure it is, keep up the good work.” He said smiling, “Oh and Joey?” He asked. “Yes, sir?” “If anything goes wrong, take care of it.” He said. Then he left. “Joey!, over here!” Vito yelled. They were all at the parking lot, with four PMP 600‘s. Rocco had on a blue palm tree shirt with blue jean shorts on. Vito still had his long gray sleeve shirt and his black jeans. Noah was shirtless with swim trunks on. “I thought we were here for business?” I said bluntly, “We are but first I’m gonna hit the beach, don’t you correct me Joe I like my slang.” Noah said. “I’m going to hit the bar.” Rocco added. They walked towards Vice Beach. “Well Joey?… Looks like it just us.” Vito said, "What about Mickey and Michael?" I asked. "They went to go take care of that thing, don't worry about it, come with me we gotta talk anyhow." He replied.
Chapter 1 end
Chapter 2: The Heat
Posted 27 January 2011 - 08:30 AM
Posted 30 January 2011 - 12:52 PM
Posted 01 February 2011 - 09:29 PM
Posted 01 February 2011 - 09:45 PM
We are definitely going over to the new system. Staff just needs to find an hour or so (easier said than done, right now) to put some finishing touches to the rules then should launch by the end of the week. Drugs are almost complete, I believe, and can be added in afterwards with no trouble.
Posted 01 February 2011 - 10:07 PM
Posted 07 February 2011 - 10:28 PM Edited by Build Up Your Gang, 07 February 2011 - 10:35 PM.
I've posted the new front pages, officially signifying that the new Build Up Your Gang IV is go.
** Update 7th Feb **
Rules 99% complete. Changes include:
Introduced a default vehicle for each gang. This gives a player something to start with, so that they aren't lost for anything to write about.
Also, introduced a rule that gives a new player, that is new to the game, not someone who changes gang a pistol. This means they can write something interesting in the first story and not just write crap so that they can afford something to start writing about.
Drugs will be introduced shortly.
Writers' cards will be polished to perfection as reviews start happening.
Staff is going to complete the final review under the old system. This will include the outstanding stories by:
The Lost Biker
Osric and Francis Szumilo will be rated as a part of the new system as they have wrote stories for the Ancelottis, who officially didn't exist until now!
Staff would like to thank everyone enormously for their patience through this transition. It has taken longer than I had planned but we got there!
Posted 08 February 2011 - 12:29 AM
It's AWWWN now!
|QUOTE (Build Up Your Gang @ Sep 19 2008, 21:45)|
YAY! Thank you. I think we can all agree that was BAAAAAAAADLY needed!
|Staff is going to complete the final review under the old system.|
And, with regard
|Introduced a default vehicle for each gang. This gives a player something to start with|
Awesome news, btw!
EVERYONE SAY *YAY* ON THE COUNT OF THREE!
PS; It was our moderator, SaintDave, that got us pinned again. Thanks, O Sainted One!
Posted 08 February 2011 - 06:28 AM Edited by Maverick24, 08 February 2011 - 06:31 AM.
|QUOTE (aragond @ Feb 8 2011, 00:29)|
| Question: |
And, with regard
I will be adding the default vehicle to all gangs on player cards. I was also going to allow a bit of "grace" to players who wished to keep assets from the previous gang system for a story line they are currently writing, as long as they started it under the old system.
I was going to rate the stories seperate just because the 'old' ones should recognise that assets were shared under the old system; however in the new system the writers' should not have so much access straight away.
Otherwise, I don't envisage scoring or doing anything else in a different way at all.
|PS; It was our moderator, SaintDave, that got us pinned again. Thanks, O Sainted One!|
Thankyou, SaintDave. Particularly so now I've invested such substantial time into rebuilding this thread.
Posted 10 February 2011 - 12:09 AM
Posted 11 February 2011 - 01:22 PM
|QUOTE (Francis Szumilo @ Feb 1 2011, 22:07)|
|Great to hear! I can't wait to continue my story with the Ancelotti's.|
i will post my second chapter, this is the one when we began to cross our stories, read when i post it, thanks. Also my computer is down again so...
Posted 14 February 2011 - 05:13 PM
Posted 20 February 2011 - 05:22 PM
I'm going to join this for sure.
P.S. There's no need to tell me what to do and what not to do as I know it all already.
Posted 23 February 2011 - 06:25 AM Edited by AceRay, 02 April 2011 - 08:47 AM.
Chapter 2: Ghosting Gez (Albanian Mob)
I put down the controller and turn my head to a smug Andri. He just won the last game of Merde Racing , a racing game he bought for his new gaming console; the Game-Box 2000. He bought it with his share of the money from last night's job. Immediately after we had a drink, we went to the nearest electronic store and bought it. I don't know if it was worth all the money he paid for it, but Andri seemed happy with it. My thoughts are interrupted by Andri.
"Ha! You should have known an Infernus could never outrun a Coquette! Now, I believe Pete said something about a rematch" He says. Pete obviously heard him, as he came running in. I hand my controller to him, and he cradles it like a mother would cradle a child at birth. Pete has noted that is very new, and when something out-of-the-showroom new enters his hands; he can't help but get excited.
"Otto, I'm making popcorn, can you go off and check on it" He says as they scroll through menus of similar looking tracks. I get off Andri's comfortable bean bag chair and lave for the kitchen.
Andri's kitchen is a mess. It looks like a bomb went off. There were pots and pans littered everywhere. For such a scheming and planning person, his apartment was a mess. I'd expect him to be more organized. I see the popcorn popping in the popcorn machine on the counter. I look inside, and the popcorn kernels spin around like they were in a washing machine. Popcorn is nothing without some melted butter poured on top, so I look in the fridge for some. It looks like a run-down butchery in the there, but the butter is in there, above the milk and next to the cheese. Both looked off, but thankfully the butter was brand new. I get a knife out of the draw and start to cut up the butter, when Pete walks in.
"Andri is analyzing and comparing different car's stats, should take a while." He says with smirk. "Hard to believe that this Andri's place eh?
"I'd say. Hey can you get a coffee mug from the pantry? I need it to put the butter in the microwave" After a moment, he returns with an 'I Love LC' coffee mug, to which I stick the butter in.
"What are you going to spend your share of the money on?" He asks me as I put the cup on the microwave. I turn it on and it makes that irritating noise that microwaves make. I check the popcorn; the first kernels had popped and were in the bowl placed in front of it.
"I don't know man; there is nothing I really want to buy." I say.
"Well, I want to buy a van, man! It could be awesome to ride around in! Like a Burrito or a Speedo or something. I've wanted to own one of those since I was a little kid." Pete exclaimed.
"What I wanted when I was kid can't be bought with money" I say. The popcorn machine was really going for it now. It was like it was spewing out popcorn into a bowl except without the muck and such.
"Really? What was that" he asks.
"Well, I've always wanted to become a writer. When I was ten, I saw a zombie movie in the old village. It was truly awesome for a kid who had never seen TV before. Ever since then, I've been obsessed with creating worlds, stories and the like. Sadly, in the old country, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was if you could lift ten logs or whatever. So I came here, hoping for some book publisher or movie company to notice me, but it never happened. Without work, I fell into the criminal underworld. No point in trying to get back, so I just hang here." I say. I then turn off the popcorn machine, as there were only one or two kernels left.
"Oh, OK then. I'm sorry about that." he says as he goes into the pantry to get something. Just then, my phone rings. I flip it out of my pocket and answer it.
"Hey, Otto!! It is Skender speaking! Did I tell you how happy I am about last night? Well, I am so good job." Skender says. I thank him and he coughs, and then quickly moves onto the next subject.
"Now listen, I need you to do a little work for a friend of mine. He's a guy called Isaac. He should be in the alley on Wappinger Ave. Come alone. He'll give you the details. Now, I need to lye down. Crazy night, eh?"
"Right now boss? Uh, never mind, I can do it. I'll be there sir. Goodbye." I say to him then I switch off the phone. I turn to Pete, who is busy sprinkling popcorn salt on the popcorn.
"Hey Pete, I've got to go, boss gave me a job, must go. See you at seven for the hostage situation." I say. Pete says his farewell, and I grab a handful of popcorn. I walk back into the lounge while eating some popcorn. It was nice popcorn; it was nice and warm and it crackled in your mouth. Just the way I like it. Andri was making charts and comparing stats on some cars in the video game. I say I'm leaving, but he just mumbles something about a cat. He doesn't like to be disturbed when he's collecting data. I grab my blue trench coat off the coat hook, and leave.
I run down the stairs while putting on my coat. Sticking my arms into the coat is like sticking my arm in between some heaters. I had forgotten how cold it was outside when I got out of the building. It was raining heavily this morning, so everyone had umbrellas and were coughing and sneezing like there was no tomorrow. I instantly regret wearing shorts. There was no time for standing around so I run down the stairs to the street. I then cross the street, and almost get run over by some lawyer in a Washington. The car screeches as I brace myself for impact. Thankfully, it stops just in time but the driver gets out and starts swearing at me for not looking. I don't have time for this, so I just continue crossing the street, but the dude follows me, asking whether my behavior is acceptable. Then he pushes me and I stumble over a stone. Enraged at this fool's actions, I turn around and punch him square in the face. He falls over, probably with a bleeding nose, and I'm about to beat the crap out of him when I hear someone scream, then a cop gets alerted. I didn't see the cop, but I did hear him shout, so I run away from the scene as fast as I could from Cisco Street, down Mohawk Ave.
I ease my pace after a little while. I think I've lost them. I think they were worried about the dude than me. This sort of thing happens everyday in this city. I slow my pace down again, down to a walk, where I am stopped in my tracks by a bum.
"Hey man, got some money? I need it for food" He asks me.
"No way, I'm not paying for your drug addiction" I tell him, not wanting him to bother me anymore.
"Come on man, I'm going to need it more than you will." He tells me. I chuck him a fiver just to get him out of my way, to which he thanks me for. I'm not going to deny that it did feel slightly good, but there was no time for that. I run for a little bit more, when I get to Masterson Street. I see a hot dog stand, and I feel slightly hungry. I check my pockets for money, and realize that I gave the last of it to the bum. The rest of it is under my bed at my house. I shake my head as I try to resist the temptation of the hot dog. I manage, and walk down Wappinger Street where Isaac is apparently. I see the alley, which I poke my head round to see what is there. I see a few bums hurdled round a barrel on fire, searching for warmth in the cold weather, a drunken woman lying passed out on the ground near the back of Comrades bar, and a Black Sabre with a small body kit. A pair of small, green, beady eyes watches me from the Sabre's cockpit. I approach the car, and a hand beckons in, to which I assume are Isaac’s. I get in the vehicle, to which I am greeted by a slow, gravely voice.
"I believe Skender sent you." Isaac simply says.
"You must be Isaac. Yes, I was sent by Skender Smirnov. What do you want?" I ask him. Its so dark in the Sabre I can't see what this guy looks like. It’s a bit irritating.
"Isaac is my name, yes, you were informed correctly. There is a guy who screwed the whole Albanian Mob, over 3 years back." He pauses as if he is taking a deep breath "Now he's coming home, and we're going to throw him a welcome party. His name is Gezim". He takes another pause.
"Look, man, what’s your point exactly?" I say, interrupting him.
"Fine, fine." He says as he pauses again, I'm about to interrupt him, but he starts speaking "We follow this guy in a red Vigero, I think he's called Luan, he's going to pick up Gezim from the Francis International Airport. We then follow them to the Cluckin' Bell, where they'll stop and have a bight to eat. Gez is the target; killing Luan is just a bonus, don’t really care about that fool." He states. It seems strait forward enough. "Now move over, and get into the driver's seat". Isaac gets out and walks round the back of the car, I can't see him move. This guy must be a ghost. I crawl over the gear knob and climb into the driver's seat. Isaac opens the door, and gets in. Now I can barely see his figure. I ignore this guy's mystery and focus on the job.
"OK then" I say. "When is Luan coming?"
"Right now" He says as his hand points at a shiny red Vigero muscle car. I could hear the V8 rumbling as it drives past. I turn the ignition, and the Sabre starts up. I drive out of the alley quietly and start to 'ghost' Luan.
'Ghosting' is the simple act of following something without it noticing. Any idiot knows that the ideal distance between you and a car your following is about 30 feet, so that's the distance I keep between me and Luan. Now that we are out of the dark alleyway, I can see Isaac's features much more clearly. He has greed, beady eyes set deeply into his head and short black hair which came down to his collar. He had a sharp and and his jaw stuck out a little bit. He is wearing a black turtle neck sweater, and dark black slacks. I noticed his shoes were gray with white laces when he lifted his legs up when I turned right into Hardin Street.
"So uh, what did this Gezim guy do?" I ask Isaac while keeping my eye on Luan in his Vigero. I could see he was having difficultly handling the muscle car in the bad weather.
"Gez the snake, ah yes" Isaac mutters to himself, before speaking up. "It’s been 3 years since Gez betrayed the Albanian Mob during a trafficking deal. About 10 or so good men were killed. Ardi, Detmir, Besmir... all showed so much potential. Another 20 were caught when the cops showed up. It was a massive blow to the whole crew. ez fled to the Capital City and now, after 3 years of searching, I've finally found this guy. Retribution will finally be paid." Isaac takes a breath of fresh air. I bet it felt inspiring. "Lets just say the feeling is overwhelming."
"OK, what about Lewis or Luis or whatever his name is?" I ask him curiously "What’s his story?" I keep my eyes on the mark. He has been driving naturally so far.
"He is connected with whatever gang Gez is in the Capital." Isaac explains "Luan co-owns some chop shop somewhere in Broker along with some guy called Colin Nilsson. They stay out of our way, so we don't care what happens to them." I turn left into Crockett Street. Luan has no idea I'm trailing him to Gez. Isaac also seemed pretty happy about it.
Soon, we head out onto the motorway, the Broker-Dukes Expressway, where Luan drives in front of a Patriot. The big SUV acts as a vial between Luan and me, so I drive close to it. I poke my head through the window, to keep my eye on Luan. His driving has become more erratic, which makes me suspicious that he knows I'm here. I quickly put my head back in, and back off.
"Crap. I think I blew it" I say to Isaac. He observes Luan's behavior for a second before replying.
"No. Keep on him. Who knows how long it will take until I find him.” I grimly slip back into the normal ghosting position, knowing full well that this will probably not end well.
“Why can’t we just kill him at the airport?” I ask Isaac.
“Too much police” He says slowly. “They’ll probably think we’re terrorists or something.”
We soon drive into the airport, Luan still driving frantically, and I could see what Isaac meant. There were lots of police everywhere. Simply ramming Gez down would get too risky, we would have to follow him out and kill him there.
Luan pulled up beside Gez, who was standing on the side of the road listening to his MP3 player. He was a fat bald man, in a horrible red jumpsuit and grubby white sneakers. He was still imposing however, still enough to make a man scared. I could see even from this distance that he was a snake.
We pull up about 75 feet back. We look closely at Gez to talking Luan. I try to make out what Gez is saying. Then, suddenly, they spin their heads at us. I divert my head as quickly as I can.
“Crap. What do we do?” I whisper to Isaac as if they can hear everything. Luan gets out of the car and looks at us wearing his cameo pants and blue jacket.
“Don’t worry. Just open the trunk.” He says to me. I give him a strange look but he just leaves. I sigh and pop the boot up. I then exit the Sabre. Rain pours onto my head. Luan and Gez were still looking us, menacingly. I try to walk calmly to the boot, but I think it just looks awkward. I quickly get back, and see Isaac pick up a suitcase from the boot. He gets it out and shakes my hand.
“Just play along” He says through his teeth. Isaac than beckons me to follow him. He walks towards the airport. I continue to look around nervously. I don’t think they are buying it. I turn my head slowly to their directly while nearing the airport. The duo is no longer looking at our show, and is driving away.
“Wait until they are out of site.” Isaac tells me as they drive away to the highway. I count to three, and then we run. We run past the Sabre we were driving because Gez and Luan saw us driving it. We run into the car park on the other side of the road. Isaac runs swiftly threw the traffic, like a ninja. The display distracts me so much that I fumble around, nearly getting hit by numerous drivers distracted by Isaac’s movements. Thankfully, Luan and Gez are too far away to see us. When we get to the other side, a sea of vehicles greets us in the car park. The nearest vehicle is a shiny Turismo. I grin at Isaac, and he grins back. We then start running towards the sleek Italian sports car. The rain had stopped and the sun came out, and it glistened off the clean bodywork. I run to the other side of the high performance machine and I’m surprised to find that it is unlocked. We get in the car, giggling like a couple of school girls out of excitement. I begin to hotwire the car, but the smile turns into a frown. The car wasn’t starting
“Come on, start!” I shout angrily. The car refuses to start. I bang my hand on the steering wheel, shouting angrily.
“Forget it. Let’s get in the Futo next to us!” Isaac says to me calmly. Gez is getting further away every second we wait in the Turismo. I get out of the car and scoot over to the light blue Futo that’s right next us. Isaac has already jacked the car, and has moved into the passenger seat. I get in and drive away, the car accelerating rapidly.
“OK, they are heading towards Dukes Boulevard. Let’s just stay back and follow them to where ever they’re going. Then we kill them, and whoever they’re with.” Isaac says unnaturally fast for him. I just nod my head as we catch up to them. This guy may not be great at talking, but he sure was prepared for anything. Suddenly a thought pops into my head.
“Hey, what if they’re heading towards an army of Russians, or something? What will we do then? I don’t have a gun on me. Andri lost it last night.” I say to Isaac worryingly.
“Andri, yes, I know him. Thinks he knows everything…” Isaac says quietly before shaking his head and concentrating on the topic. “Good point. OK, you drive up to them. They’re right there, in the distance, behind that Burrito van.” Isaac pulls out a Glock and reloads it. “I’ll deal with the rest!” Isaac then makes an evil look at an imaginary camera. I look at him weirdly.
“Sorry, it’s just that, I’ve, erm, always wanted to be an actor. It’s been my dream ever since I grew up in that little orphanage in Nice.” He says awkwardly. My eyebrows rise up with surprise
“Wait, are you French?” I ask him politely.
“Ah, not really, I’ve been a lot of things boy. Now look, there he is!” He points at the duo up ahead. I forget about Isaac for a minute and drive up close to them. Isaac puts his gun out the window and aims at them. They see the gun, and they start swerving all over the road. Isaac finds it troubling to aim at them, and he ends up hitting the bodywork. Isaac slams his hand on the dashboard out of frustration.
“Otto, you’ve got to ram them, and then I can go in for the kill.” He says to me. I think about how I’m going to take down a massive V8 with a small Japanese coupe.
“Okay man, but I need you to fire a consecutive shot at the wheel. The body roll should send the car over.” I say to him. Isaac nods his head in agreement. It’s on!
I tap the side of the big car, but to no effect. My car just brushes off lightly. Isaac encourages me to push harder, but the little car was no match for the big muscle. It could never work.
Isaac sticks out the gun and starts shooting, hitting the rear bumper multiple times. I try another shunt at the big car, but I bounce off, into the oncoming traffic on the other side. My heart races as I see a Boxville drive towards us, at an alarming rate.
It was too late, we were doomed. Isaac reacted by holding his hands near his face in fear of injury, while I just kept my hands on the steering wheel. The small coupe got absolutely pulped when it hit the big van. The last thing I remember at that point is a shower of glass coming towards my face as I breathe heavily, and Isaac quickly putting on his seatbelt in desperation, wishing he had taken the time earlier. Then, everything went black.
When I woke up, it felt like an instant since the crash. I was lying down on a dirty mattress in a dark place. I felt groggy, and my stomach was aching for food. I shuffled around on the mattress, trying to see anything around me. The smell of piss filled the air, and I hold my nose in disgust.
There was nothing but darkness all around me. I roll off the bed, and I land in some water. It was a couple of centimeters deep, and I assumed it came from a water cylinder. I figured I was in some kind of basement.
Slowly moving my hand into the distance, I grab onto a table leg. Moving my hand upwards, I feel the wooden structure. It was a cheap stool, a few inches wide, but on top of it was an electric torch. I pick it up, and try to feel for the button. The torch was of round design and the way to turn it on was to through a button on the bottom. Once it was flicked on, it barely even glowed, which is a lot less glorious than I had hoped for.
I decide to get up, holding the torch firmly, not wanting to drop the torch into the water, which would be catastrophic. As soon I get, a rush of wooziness hits me. It was off putting as I try to guide my away round the small room.
When I get my head round, the first thing I notice is a set of stairs heading up opposite me. I take this as a sign to leave, and so I stumble up them dizzily. When I get up to the top, a wooden door greets me, accompanied with a couple of locks. Light was seeping in from the cracks. I try to open it, but it’s locked from the other side. I bang against it, and it wouldn’t budge. I step back, ready to try and kick it down, but I misplace my footing and fall down the stairs.
I was sore, but I hadn’t reached the bottom. In truth, it was actually two sets of stairs, and I had fallen into the middle of them. My torch was at my side. I pick it up and head back down the stairs, not too sure what to do next. I try to follow the leaking water by putting my hand in the water and trying to figure which way it was flowing and my theory was correct. It was slowly gashing out of a water cylinder. I try to examine it, but my light was not good enough to see properly, so I start to head back to my mattress.
As I slowly hobble back in the dim light, I bump into something next to me. I shine my torch at the object, and it turns out to be a greasy bath. I look in to it, and I notice a black rubbish bag lying in it, contrasting against the white bath. When I get there, my cold hands rip open the bag, revealing a surprising face. I stumble backwards as Javi’s cold and dead face looks at me. It was twisted in fear and pain, creating a lifeless image. I leave the poor kid’s body and head back to my bed.
As I walk back, my stomach grumbles violently. I notice that on the little stool, there is a packet of corn chips, oddly placed there. I don’t know what they’re doing there, but I am hungry and they are my only source of nutrition. I quickly rip open the plastic bag that contains them and gobble up the cheap chips, which tasted like soggy cardboard but I don’t care, because it fills my empty stomach. I soon crash down on the mattress and soon fall into a deep sleep, filled with feelings of mystery and fear. Who knows what the future could hold?
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