I was really bored yesterday, so I decided to write an alternative version of the GTA IV mission Uncle Vlad. I took away the emotional ending so I could use it for a later story. I'm planning to write a series like this, so I'll either be rewriting GTA IV missions or creating entirely new ones. I'd really like some constructive criticism though. (Constructive being the key word).
Niko drops by the cab depot after dark, not expecting Roman to still be there. But he is, and he's drinking Vodka from the bottle at his desk.
"What you still doing here, cousin?", Niko asks innocently.
"Leave me alone," Roman answers. "Let me drink in the dark until I pass out under my desk. Mine! I have made it, cousin, and don't you say otherwise!", he blurts out.
"You're drunk, Roman. Want me to drive you home?"
"No. Hell no," Roman says in a whisper that was entirely unnecessary. "Mallorie. My love. That bitch...".
"Whoa, cousin. What's the problem now? You are not the kind of man to talk about women that way. Wait, what am I saying?" Niko tries to joke.
"Is no time for jokes, cousin. I saw Vlad's car parked out in front of Mallorie's flat this evening", Roman admits. "That asshole! That...slut!", he blurts out.
Roman stumbles to his feet, grasping the bottle as if letting it go would kill him.
"Did you know anything about this?", Roman demands to know.
Niko walks over to the water cooler sitting in the corner. He grabs a paper cup from the makeshift table next to it and pours some water.
"I had my suspicions", he admits.
"Oh, bullsh*t! You knew everything from the start! You f*cking liar!", Roman accuses Niko.
Niko puts the cup on the table.
"Not true. I never got...confirmation," Niko says somewhat cowardly.
Roman sits back down and starts to sob. "F*ck my life", he says to himself.
"You're sure about this?" Niko asks.
"His car was outside of her f*cking apartment! How much more confirmation do you need?!", Roman responds loudly.
Niko's face screws with anger. He takes the cup of water and gulps it down, then throws it in the garbage.
"You think Vladdy boy is at Comrades? I do. I'm going to teach him a lesson," Niko says. Before Roman can stop him, he is out the door.
Roman takes one last gulp of the Vodka and drops it, shattering it all over the dirty floor. "Wait Niko, no!", he yells.
Niko's just entering a cab and Roman hops in. "What the f*ck are you doing, cousin?", he demands. He has sobered up entirely within a moment.
"Teaching him a lesson. Shut up and sit back," Niko tells him. He grabs a Glock 22 from his jacket and sets it on the dashboard.
"You can't do this, cousin! Vlad has powerful friends, serious people! Give me a break!", Roman pleads.
"Grow a Goddamn spine. Why don't you watch them go at it next time, you coward?!", Niko retorts to him.
"You're sick, cousin, sick! Revenge is never the answer. You're fixated with it...constantly!", Roman argues.
Niko ignores this and pushes the gear into drive. He speeds off down the deserted street, only parked cars and groups of Russians perched on their front steps remain by this time. No more than two minutes later, Niko pulls up in front of Comrades Bar on Mohawk Avenue and grabs the pistol off the dash.
"Stay in the car. Let the big boys have their conversation inside", Niko orders. Roman doesn't argue, just looks down at his feet.
Niko exits, slams the car door and enters the bar.
Vlad is sitting at the bar with two "friends", (more likely henchmen, Niko thinks) and speaking Russian. He's wasted, which makes this easier. Niko understands some sort of joke about cabbages, but their languages aren't similar enough for him to get the rest.
"Vladdy Boy!", he calls.
Vlad turns around in his seat. He's wearing an unbuttoned blue suit with a green tie and his horseshoe-style mustache is wet with whiskey. There are multiple stains on his previously white undershirt.
"What you doing here? I don't believe I called you, boy. Get the f*ck out," he says. His hostile attitude makes Niko more determined to teach him a lesson.
"You're not my boss anymore, remember? I told you that after I dealt with Ivan.", Niko says calmly, still keeping his weapon behind his back. Vlad lets out an emotionless burst of laughter.
"I call the shots here, yokel. Not you. Not your fatty cousin. Not Mallorie", he mumbles. He's more than drunk. He's totally wasted.
"Mallorie, yes," Niko repeats while emitting an equally emotionless laughter. Suddenly the smile is gone and his weapon is pointed at Vlad's chest. "I told you to stay away from her."
Vlad stands up to his full, yet rather unintimidating 5 foot 8. He's only two inches shorter than Niko, but it's enough.
"That is not how this works, yokel. You do not just waltz into my bar and threaten me!", he yells. His henchmen are at full alert. It's then that Niko sees the lines of Cocaine on the bar table and he snickers. He's high in the sky and drunk as a skunk, Niko thinks.
"You think that you're a big man, yet you're afraid of Mikhail Faustin cutting your balls off. I think he is the big man here", Niko says, riling Vlad up.
"Bullsh*t!" Vlad squeals cowardly. The voice crack of a 46 year old Russian makes Niko snicker again.
"You think is funny, eh?", Vlad says, then changes the subject. "I not a man without principle though. You want to fight me? Then we fight like men, not like dogs".
Vlad takes off his jacket and gun vest underneath, holding two TT-30 pistols ready for use. Vlad lays them on his bar stool.
Mickey the bartender finally decides to leave out the back door at this point.
Niko shrugs his shoulders and places his Glock on the bar table. They both stretch while Vlad's henchmen watch in slight amusement.
Suddenly, Vlad swings and hits Niko straight in the mouth. His lips split open both on top and bottom, but there is no further damage. Niko grabs Vlad's right arm by the midsection and twists it back with a satisfying crack of bone. Vlad stumbles back dazed by the pain, but then charges forward like a bull, headbutting Niko in the stomach. His arm is definitely broken, a radial head dislocation, Niko assumes. He's proven right when Vlad attempts to swing with his right arm and fails horribly, not even able to lift it.
Unfortunately, he's equally efficient with his left arm. He hits Niko in the jaw with a powerful left hook, followed by an uppercut and a devastating Gazelle Punch. This quickly brings Vlad back to his time in the boxing ring in '86, but the thought fades when Niko lands a straight punch, hitting Vlad straight in the nose. The blood rushes immediately and pours down increasingly less white shirt until it's a repugnant dark red. Niko takes the opportunity to check himself; his jaw is crooked and in pain, but not broken. His lips are bleeding slightly and his cheek is split open from the force of the Gazelle, but that's all.
And with that, Niko decides to finish it. He preforms a pull counter and hits Vlad straight in the forehead, splitting it open and knocking him to the ground. On the way down he hits his head on the bar table, bloodying him further. He's not knocked out though, and with a yell of "Добей его!" the two henchmen set upon Niko. He recognizes one as Christoph Mavić, a Serbian gun-for-hire who lives in the apartment next to Niko and Roman's. He takes a switchblade from his pocket while the other man, a Russian freelancer named Igor Osinov tries to pull a gun.
Using his instincts, Niko grabs the two TT-30s and points them at the pair of bodyguards. He doesn't hesitate to kill Igor and shoots him twice in the chest. It was of no consequence, nobody called the cops in Hove Beach, especially at 11pm when everyone is either sleeping in their beds or drunk on their floors.
An autopsy would later reveal that Niko's aim was dead on; both shots went through Igor's heart.
Christoph also relies on his instincts. He drops the bat as soon as he sees Niko reach for the pistols. He holds his hands out for Niko to see and gets on his knees. Yes, good instincts, Niko thinks.
Vlad gets up using the bar table as a support. Being high, drunk and having your ass handed to you is not a sobering experience.
"What th-", Vlad starts to say. Before he can say more, Roman walks in through the front door.
"Niko! What the hell have you done?!", he asks.
Niko ignores him. "I will repeat it for you, Vladdy boy. You stay the f*ck away from Mallorie."
Vlad stands, leaning on the bar table with his left arm.
"Hey, fatty. I'm sorry you're so upset!", Vlad taunts to Roman before starting to laugh hysterically.
"Hey...can't we talk about this...situation? Mallorie's mine!", Roman pleads once again.
"The time for talking is over", Niko responds to the pleading.
With that, he casually walks over to Vlad, looks down at the TT-30 and swiftly slams it into Vlad's face. He has no specific facial part in mind, but he hits Vlad square in the nose once again, reestablishing the previous blood flow. And he does it again and again and again. By the time he is done, Vlad's face is no more than a bloody, gushy mess. By then, Vlad is again on the floor, his back against the bar table.
Niko pulls the slide of the gun, then points it right in front of Vlad's eye. From Vlad's perspective, the muzzle looks like an infinite gateway to Hell, never ending darkness. He closes his eyes.
Niko puts his finger on the trigger, but before he can pull it Roman's hand rests on his shoulder.
"I think he's learned his lesson. Nobody's had the balls to do this before, cousin", he says calmly.
Niko looks down, then at Vlad again. "Is that so, Vladdy boy?", he asks tauntingly.
Vlad's mind is racing. Yes, that's true. No, it's not. Well, only partly. Growing up on the streets of Grozny was hard even before the collapse of the Soviet Union, and he took quite a few beatings, most to prove himself. He was even shot in the neck once. All because of his father. That horrible man, every time he w-
"Vlad!" Niko's yell snaps him back to the present.
"Yes, true", he says, and that's all he says.
"Then I guess we should leave you alone", Niko asserts. "But stay away from Mallorie, or you'll get what's coming to you earlier than you should". He puts Vlad's guns back on the seat.
And with that, the cousins Bellic leave.
Vlad manages to get to his feet and walks up to Christoph, who is still cowering on the ground. "Убирайся с глаз моих!" he yells. Mavić needs no more than that and runs out the door.
Vlad stumbles over to his cell phone. He hits speed dial for Mikhail Faustin.
"Hello?", a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.
"Добрый вечер, Ilyena", Vlad greets. "I need to speak to Mikhail immediately".
Ilyena sighs. "My husband is sleeping, Vlad. May it wait until morning?", she asks quietly.
"No. It is important", Vlad affirms.
"Fine. Just wait a moment, then", Ilyena says.
Vlad hears the tap of the phone hitting a surface, then a moment later yelling coming from further away. A couple of minutes later Mikhail Faustin's voice breaks the silence.
"What? It's late!", Mikhail bellows into the phone.
"I know this, but I have important thing to tell you," Vlad says.
"And it could not have waited until tomorrow? имбецильный."
"Roman and Niko Bellic. They beat the sh*t out of me and leave me to die tonight," Vlad exaggerates to Mikhail.
"Roman Bellic. That fat Serb? He did something to you? Don't make me f*cking laugh."
"No, his cousin Niko. He is dangerous, more than he looks!", Vlad complains into the phone.
"Niko? He have a full name?"
"Not that I know. Nikolai, Nikola? I'm not even sure that they are Serbian", Vlad admits. "Give me a break."
"I'll call Andrei."
And with that, Faustin hangs up.
Back at the depot...
As Roman exits the car, Niko just stares at him.
"What?", Roman asks obliviously.
"You're welcome, Roman. You would've had Mallorie screwing Vladdy boy until one of them died. I think he learn his lesson."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Niko. I call you if some angry Russian mobsters show up looking for me tomorrow. It will be no surprise", Roman contends sarcastically.
"Whatever, man. You will thank me soon."
"We'll see. Later on, man", Roman says as he enters the depot's side door.
Niko looks at the car's clock. 11:25pm. Satisfied with the night, he drives back to the apartment.