The King of Liberty City

[bored]

 

More, please!  just can't get enough of this, nice work!

well, thank you. more later tonight or tomorrow, when i have time.

 

EDIT: It's tomorrow, let's get this party jumping, beeyatches.

 

 

 

 

Maria put the bags full of clothes she had just dropped a small fortune on in the back of the blue Kuruma, which she had discovered unattended in the garage she shared with Marc. She had heard the warnings from Asuka and Marc, but failed to see what was new in this situation.

 

"Hey pretty lady!" A voice called. Maria jumped, and turned to see a Diablo gangster approaching her, carrying a bat. "Look at you. Yeah, I know who you are chica, and the Diablos got a little message for you. El Burro, he ain't afraid a' no Yakuza anymore. He got better friends, and ain't none a' your Japanese buddies gonna do nothin' 'bout it. And not that white boy neither. You just remember that."

 

"Ooh, I'm really scared of you," Maria mocked. "A couple of Mexican goons are trying to act all tough. Listen homeboy, you wouldn't stand a chance against people I know, so you take your little Louisville Slugger and get back to your friends."

 

The Diablo grinned.

 

"Bitch, you gonna regret dissin' this bat. This's iced plenty of big-talkers like you, so you just another notch."

 

Maria started to reach for the front door of the car, but the Diablo rushed her. He yelled, and raised his bat, but Maria got to her pepper spray before he could bring it down. She blasted it in his face, and he screamed for help. Two more Diablos emerged from the lower level of the parking lot.

 

"Que pasa?" One of the said to the blinded Diablo.

 

"Mis ojos! Ay mios dios, mis ojos!" He struggled to point to Maria as he began to recover a little. One of the other Diablos grabbed Maria, covered her mouth with, and pinned her to the ground.

 

"You make a noise, bitch, and I kill you." He snarled. Maria complied, but continued squirming. The Diablo reached for the hem of her skirt, and lifted it to her waist. "You gonna be good for something, sweetheart."

 

The other Diablos watched and laughed. The one that had been hit by pepper spray was especially amused. Maria started to cry, and started to scream, despite the warning by the Diablo. He positioned himself over her, and got ready.

 

"This gonna be sweet."

 

"So is this!" The Diablos all wheeled around. Tony Cipriani was behind them, holding a chain. The two standing up were both hit in the face with it, hard. The one who had been preparing to rape Maria didn't have time to get up before the chain was around his neck. The chain squeezed tighter, and it's wielder dragged the Diablo backwards, until he was in between the other two.

 

"Now if I catch any of you here again, I will make you f*ckers bleed!" He shouted. The Diablos ran off, while Maria, slightly shocked, fixed her skirt and stood up.

 

"Tony," she squeaked out.

 

"It's ok, Maria. I've been following them for twenty minutes," Tony said. "You need to take these guys seriously. We just found out that Joey's got them helping him and the Triads out. They're waging war, and they're trying to rattle us at the start."

 

"Oh God. Yeah, I noticed," Maria said, trying to control her breathing. "Tony?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Please don't tell anyone about this. I'd never hear the end of it."

 

"That might be a good thing, but ok," Tony replied. "Just be more cautious. A little can of mase only does so much."

 

"Ok. And Tony, thank you." With that, Maria got in the car, and drove away, wanting to forget what had almost happened, but she wasn't able to. The rest of the day was uneventful for her, but her friends noticed something on her mind. Marc pried endlessly to find out, since she was normally one to speak her mind, but he couldn't get anything from her.

 

 

 

 

El Burro sat in the parlor of Don Joseph Leone's home. He had violated Horovitz's warning, and he needed to keep a strong ally satisfied to feel safe. The message had been delivered to the Yakuza: the Diablos were alligning themselves with the Leone family, and Burro needed to discuss further action with the Don, but he was terrified. He knew as well as anyone what Horovitz was capable of, but he didn't dare show any of that terror to Don Leone, who was walking into the room.

 

"Stay sitting," the Don ordered. Burro had barely moved, but he made extra sure that he was planted in the overstuffed chair he had sat in.

 

"Don Leone, how sure are you that we will be able to take the Yakuza down? Especially with that goon Horovitz."

 

"My dear Mexican friend, Marc Horovitz has weaknesses. He may be ruthless, he may be frightening to his enemies, but he also has friends. And if we get to his friends, as your men attempted to yesterday, we can get to him. A man off-balance is a man who isn't a threat to us."

 

"But can we get to them? The Diablos don't have the muscle to get to the Yakuza outright."

 

"But you can cause trouble to them, nonetheless. And you can easily bother the Yardies, who he has alligned himself with as well."

 

El Burro was sweating. He was worried now. What the Don intended was full-scale war. Burro wanted Marc Horovitz as much as anyone, but this was dangerous.

 

"Don, do we have the muscle to really beat them?"

 

"Our two organizations, along with the Triads, will have no trouble. And I have given extra incentive to the South Side Nines, a gang on Shoreside, to keep one of the gangs that Marc works with too busy to help him."

 

"If you say so. When do we get underway?"

 

"Soon. I'm trying to persuade the Forellis to help us, and the Triads are calling for extra muscle from around the state. That is all I have to tell you."

 

"Well, ok." El Burro said, and then he got up quietly, but quickly, walked out. This newer Don was utterly loco, but he was powerful. If he could really organize this strike that could get rid of that lapdog once and for all, who was Burro to argue?

 

 

 

"Didja hear all that Lou?" Joey Leone asked.

 

"Ah man, that was first rate. That's Brando sh*t you spouted out," Luigi responded.

 

"Heh, yeah. Mexican punk was shakin' in his boots. Lou, we got our work cut out for us here. The Yakuza don't stand a chance here, and that sh*tball workin' for 'em ain't gonna change a damn thing."

 

 

 

 

Marc raised the AK47 up, lined up the sight, and fired a few rounds at a target.

 

"This pulls a bit. Goes off to the right. Check out the chamber, I think something's not right in it," he told Phil.

 

"You sure? I mean, I know you're a good aim, but you could've just missed. I mean, hell, that's probably just recoil."

 

"No, Phil. I've used guns of this model plenty of times. I know what the recoil does, and this thing jerks too much. Now listen Phil, I trust you well enough. You've never done anything to make me think otherwise, and Ray was always faithful of you, but you need to accept that this damn thing is messed up. Lemme see one of the others."

 

Phil reached into a crate near him with his one arm, and pulled out another AK.

 

"Try this one."

 

Marc aimed again at a new target, and fired.

 

"Now this one recoils normally. How much?"

 

"3 grand."

 

"Ok. Hey Maria!" Marc called to his girlfriend, who was leaning against their car. "Grab the blue one!" Maria pulled a blue briefcase out of the trunk of the Kuruma, and brought it to Marc.

 

"This one?"

 

"Yeah," Marc said, and took the briefcase. "This one should have a bit over 3k. Pull out the extra cash and send it back to us once you've counted it."

 

"Hey Phil," Maria said. "Can I see one of those nines?"

 

"Sure sweetheart," he said, and he pulled out a Tech Nine from another crate.

 

"What do you need a gun for, babe?" Marc asked her.

 

"Just with all Asuka's been talking about, I want to be ready for anything."

 

"Sure."

 

Phil handed her a gun. She aimed at the target Marc had been using, and squeezed off a shot. It went right into the bullseye.

 

"Holy damn!" Marc yelled. "Maria, since when could you shoot like that?"

 

"I'm Italian," she smirked.

 

 

 

A half hour later, they were driving home from Phil's weapons yard.

 

"Maria, you sure you're ok?" Marc asked for the umpteenth time.

 

"Uh huh. Don't worry about it, babe. I'm just feeling a bit jumpy right now."

 

Marc left it at that, though he made a note to try again later. This wasn't like Maria at all.

Edited August 16, 2004 by bored

[bored]

for the sake of the masses (aka: the five people who read this) who need to be positive that this has been updated, i'm adding the next update in a new post.

 

 

Marc took aim at the bald man exiting the casino. He closed one eye, putting the other in front of the scope of his sniper rifle. He watched the bald man, who appeared to be in a hurry, walk to his car. When the bald man was getting in, Marc centered the crosshairs on where he anticipated the man's head to be in a few seconds. He moved his finger to the trigger, and squeezed. Blood covered the man's car, and he slumped to the ground. Marc looked at the surrounding area, making sure the police weren't near. He ran out to the car, shoved his victim into the trunk, and drove the car, a Banshee, across the town to an apartment building in the Fort Staunton neighborhood. Two Yardies approached him.

 

"Here ya go, guys," he said to them. "Do what ya want with it."

 

"Well, obviously," one of them sneered, but he stopped himself before he could bother the infamous criminal he was addressing.

 

"Got the cash?"

 

"Of course." The Yardy was holding a briefcase, which Marc was in no shortage of, and handed it to him. Marc opened it, and looked at the payment. It looked to be about $10,000, the price he'd agreed to. That was good. Marc didn't like to distrust the Yardies, but they hadn't started out on good terms, so it was natural.

 

 

 

It was 4 a.m., and 8Ball was tired. Clubbing all night did that to a man. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it, and dammit, 8Ball was willing to be that someone. He got into his Esperanto, and headed home, ready for a little sleep. After a block of uneventful driving, he noticed two flamed Stallions following him.

 

"sh*t," he muttered. One of the Stallions pulled up next to him. He slammed his foot on the gas, and drove off. Unfortunately for him, an Esperanto could never even dream of outrunning a Stallion. Both of the cars were right in back of him, and one was quickly gaining. 8Ball tapped the brake on the car, and let one of the Stallions pull back to his side. Once it was right next to him, he jerked the wheel hard to the right, and slammed into the Stallion. It went careening into a lightpost, which instantly buckled and fell over. He opened the glove compartment, and grabbed an Uzi that fell out of it. He cranked down the window with his other hand, then quickly put it back on the wheel. The other Stallion pulled ahead of him. He switched the hands holding the gun and the wheel. He stuck out the Uzi, and fired at the Stallion. It sped away before he could fire anymore. He thought he could see a slumped over Diablo in the passenger seat.

 

sh*t, cops're comin', he thought. He knew what to do though. The Paint N' Spray had come through for him and his friends in situations where they needed to evade the police before, and they wouldn't let him down now.

 

 

 

 

A familiar blue Kuruma pulled up in front of the Paint N' Spray. Marc looked up, and saw 8Ball wave.

 

"What'd you do now?" He shouted, mockingly.

 

 

 

 

The Kuruma was passing through the street where Marc lived, headed towards 8Ball's apartment in Aspatria, when two familiar Stallions, with three more flanking them, came from the other way.

 

"sh*t! They're back!" 8Ball yelled.

 

"8Ball, as soon as I pull up by the entrance to my place, run to garage as fast as you can!" Marc shouted. He pulled beside the entrance to his apartment, and 8Ball did as he was told. Marc sped off, ready to confront the Diablos. He swerved the a 90 degree angle to the approaching cars, opened the driver side window, and fired his Uzi madly. The Stallion in front slowed down and stopped inches from the Kuruma. Marc spun his car around, smashing a Diablo who had exited the damaged Stallion in the process, and drove to his home. He hurried down the ramp, and into his garage, where 8Ball was waiting anxiously.

 

"8Ball, get in the Patriot!" He called. He hopped out of his Kuruma, and into the waiting truck.

 

"What difference'll this monster make?" 8Ball asked.

 

"A friend of mine, Ray Machowski, gave this to me as a gift for helping him," Marc answered. "It's bulletproof."

 

The Patriot pulled out, and onto the street, where the Stallions were surrounding the exit of the ramp. Marc leaned out of his window, and tossed a grenade as far as he could. It exploded over one of the Stallions, and the other three sped away. The Patriot did the chasing now. Cops were starting to arrive, and Marc needed to divert their attention from where he lived.

 

One of the three remaining Stallions came from a side street, and rammed the Patriot. 8Ball flinched, and shouted at Marc.

 

"Get your Japanese buddies, man! We need help!"

 

"I'm driving! You do it!" Marc tried to point to where he could see 8Ball's phone falling from his pocket, but he had to slam on the brakes when he saw the other two Stallions blocking the road. Police tried to get close, but the Diablos inside the cars shot at them whenever they got too close.

 

"sh*t! Marc, I'm gonna pop some heads!" 8Ball said, holding his Uzi. He jumped out of the car, and opened fire. Marc watched, slightly amused, but then saw two Diablos behind his friend.

 

"8Ball!" He tried to get out and shoot at the Diablos, but they grabbed 8Ball before he had the chance.

 

"You shoot, and your buddy dies!" A Diablo shouted to him. More Stallions arrived, and covered the Diablos who were taking 8Ball from both Marc and the police. Marc jumped into his Patriot, and sped off as fast as he could, knowing he could follow so many Diablos safely, and the police had seen him there. He needed to cross into Shoreside, where he wouldn't be followed, and he could plan a rescue.

 

God, what a day.

 

 

 

 

The following morning, Marc was back at Phil's, buying ammunition, and lots of it.

 

"God Almighty, boy, what are you planning?" Phil eventually asked.

 

"It's the Diablos. They made the first move and grabbed 8Ball," he responded.

 

"sh*t! Well, good luck getting him back. I don't doubt that you could do it. I'd love to help, but the whole 'one-arm' business is difficult, ya know?"

 

"Uh, sure."

 

 

 

Maria stood behind Marc later on at the casino. He was still moping about 8Ball being taken. She rubbed his shoulders, after finally getting him to remove his jacket, and tried talking to him.

 

"Babe, you've only taken on so many people at once one time before." She was referring to when he had rescued her from Catalina, and had decimated a good amount of the Columbian Cartel's forces.

 

"Yeah, but this is different. I could've stopped this one from happening. I knew that one of the Portland gangs was gonna try something, but I just wasn't ready."

 

"Marky, you were as ready as you could be," Maria continued trying to reassure. "8Ball was, too. You were both pretty well armed, and you took control really well. And from what you said, 8Ball got taken because he was impulsive."

 

Marc sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Either way, I'm gettin' him back. 8Ball's my best friend, and he's always been there to help me. He's the one who helped me get out of jail, he gave me a place to stay afterwards and got me the job with the Leones, which is how I met you, and no matter how much the Leones worked him over, he never squealed on where my new home was, or anything."

 

"But you did help him get out of Portland. I'm not saying don't be upset, or don't rescue him, but don't act like you never did anything for him."

 

She kept rubbing his shoulders, when Asuka wheeled herself into the lounge they had situated themselves in. She was worried.

 

"Have you heard from Shiro?" She asked.

 

"No. Why?" Maria answered.

 

"We haven't been able to contact him for hours."

 

"Oh, hell." Marc knew where he was, and he was just even more frustrated now.

Edited August 20, 2004 by bored

[bored]

if you haven't guessed, i stop adding to old posts and make new ones after so many updates, so this is the next installment. tell me what you guys think of all this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where will I find him?!" Joey Leone shouted again.

 

"I told you, in yo' mama's bedroom," 8Ball snapped back. "Why don't you just go look and see that I'm right."

 

"8Ball, you were once a good friend of ours. It's a shame that you decided to change your allegiance," Joey said, bringing his tone down to the more menacing one he had taken on with El Burro. He was beating 8Ball in the massive basement area in his home. Shiro Tanaka was being treated similarly in another room.

 

"Yeah, well, things change," 8Ball said back, mockingly matching Joey's tone.

 

"You don't want those hands of yours damaged again, do you? Those burns of yours sure lasted for a long time, didn't they?"

 

"All first-degrees. More than you could ever handle. sh*t, I remember you screaming like a baby over brushing some hot metal on one of your cars once. Barely even left a mark. Sissy."

 

Joey punched him in the face, blackening 8Ball's eye. Luigi walked in from the other room, where he was working Shiro over.

 

"'Ey Joe, I got somethin' we can use from the Jap," Luigi said. "Horovitz gets his weapons from some vet in Fort Staunton, guy by the name of Phil. We nab him, we cut off his weapons supply."

 

"That's good," Joey responded, pleased.

 

 

 

 

First 8Ball, right in front of him, then Shiro, when no one was around. Marc was terrified of what they Portland gangs would pull next. His phone wrang.

 

"Horovitz."

 

"Yo', Marc, it's D-Ice," came the voice on the other end. "Listen, the Nines is gettin' brave lately. We need you to come teach 'em a lesson."

 

"Eh, listen Ice, I've got a lot of sh*t going on right now, and I really can't help ya' right now."

 

"You sure, man?"

 

"Yeah, sorry."

 

"Look, they're hittin' us with stuff we didn't know they could afford. Better guns, bullet-proof cars. They bein' helped out."

 

Marc paused. "sh*t," he muttered. "Ice, this may involve me. You keep the Jacks away from the Nines right now. If this is what I think it is, then they'll finally be able to be a threat to you. Once my problem is sorted out, they'll probably lose their funding, and I'll come give a hand."

 

"Well, ok."

 

 

 

 

Three black Sentinels arrived at Phil's ammo yard. From each of these, three Mafioso clad all in black, carrying handguns and shotguns, stepped out. One pressed the buzzer next to the gate.

 

"Is this Phil?" He asked.

 

"Yeah," came the response. "Who's this?"

 

"A customer. You were highly recommended. Could you let us in?"

 

The gate opened, and the nine Mobsters walked in. Phil was waiting for them inside.

 

"Looks like you're pretty well hooked up already, but what can I do ya for, strangers?" He asked. The lead Mobster pointed his gun at him.

 

"Come with us."

 

Phil turned and scrambled inside the shed nearby, and the Mobsters chased. He was waiting inside with a strange looking harness attached to him and an AK47.

 

"Keep away!" He shouted, and fired the AK. The Mobsters scattered, but two were taken out quickly. Another fired his handgun, and hit Phil's shoulder. "You son of a bitch!"

 

The Mobsters surrounded him, took the harness and the gun away, and dragged him, kicking and screaming, to their cars.

 

 

 

Marc and Maria walked into Phil's yard, an hour later. Maria needed to get more of the right kind of ammo for her Tech Nine, not feeling that she had enough.

 

"Phil!" Marc called. "Hey Phil!" But there was no response.

 

Maria poked her head into one of the shacks Phil kept his supplies in, and screamed. Marc came running.

 

"They were here, Marc! Oh God, they took Phil, too!" She cried.

 

"Dammit! Well, at the very least, he was able to take a couple of the bastards out." Marc was even more afraid than ever, now. It was obvious what was happening. This new alliance of Portland gangs was readying itself to strike at him, and was shaking him by taking friends and associates.

 

 

 

 

As Marc and Maria left in shock, they weren't aware that they were being watched. The man spying on them waited for them to leave, then dialed a number on his phone.

 

"Love here," said the recieving voice.

 

"The Italians got that weapons man. Your thug is freaked. You wanna make your move, it outta be soon."

[CantTouchThis]

Wow, that's a great story. I want more!! Good Job!

[bored]

then more you shall have! i've got some interesting stuff planned for later on in the story that i think everyone'll get a kick out of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Marc Horovitz was recognized on the streets, whoever knew him tended to run away scared, afraid that he'd been sent after him. Today, the few people who did know his face just couldn't bring themselves to be afraid. Because today, the normally collected, cold-looking thug was wandering with his hands in his pockets looking at the ground. Guilt racked him more than it ever had. Not even the feelings he'd gotten from seeing Asuka hanging on to her life by a thread after Catalina had shot her while looking for him. And that had done quite a number on Marc. This was worse. He had pissed off one too many people, and now his best friend and two reliable business associates were undergoing God knew what. He wondered if it was wise leaving Asuka and Maria alone. Of everyone that was part of his inner circle, they and Tony were the only ones left. They were probably safe, deep in the casino with hordes of Yakuza guarding them, but Marc didn't like the idea of not being able to check on them regularly. Still, it was probably better this way, with him not around too much. He could only hope that Phil, Shiro, and 8Ball were still alive, and that he'd be able to free them before anything too bad happened.

 

 

 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you just hit me?" Phil laughed, while blood poured down his face.

 

Luigi punched him again.

 

"How can we get the Yakuza lady?" He continued asking.

 

"Listen, greaseball, I don't work for the Yakuza at all. I don't know what the hell they're doing. And even if I did, why the hell would I tell you?"

 

 

 

"Is Maria ever unprotected? Answer me!" A lower-level Mobster was still vainly working over 8Ball.

 

"And I told you, I don't know if she likes riding barebacked or not," 8Ball responded.

 

"What the? Just answer me!"

 

 

 

In another area of Joey Leone's home, the less hardened Shiro had fainted already.

 

 

 

 

With nothing else to calm himself, Marc went to do the only thing he knew how: mercenary work. He decided to answer D-Ice's call to help the Red Jacks, and was on his way to the South Side Nine's gathering area in Wichita Gardens. He was sitting in the back of a large Rumpo van, with four Jacks accompanying him. He looked at his shotgun, focusing only on the task at hand, not thinking about the events of the last few days.

 

 

"We're here," a Jack said to everyone in the van. "This is it. The Nines fall tonight."

 

Marc jumped out the van before anyone. Nines had already amassed outside. He pumped his gun and fired into them before the Jacks even had time to react. Nines scattered, and a few were felled quickly. The Jacks joined him, and started firing. The one driving the van moved it away, then came back fast, mowing two Nines over. He got out, and fired his nine millimeter at an approaching Nine.

 

"Oh, the irony," he muttered under his breath. Then he turned, only to take several rounds of another Nine's Uzi. He slumped into the van, and the Nine who shot him lost his own head to Marc's shotgun.

 

"There'll be more inside," Marc shouted, when the Nines who had confronted thim were all finished. The driver was the only Jack to be killed. The four of them ran inside the apartment building they knew the last of the Nines could be found in.

 

"Hey!" They all turned to see a Nine wielding an AK47 by the stairs. He fired, and hit two Jacks, one fatally in the heart, the other on the arm. The third Jack shot him in the head, and they continued on, the injured one clutching his arm. As they made their way to the floor where they would find the last members of the South Side Nines, more Red Jacks arrived in their Rumpos. Marc stuck out his arm to block the other Jacks with him when they reached the third floor, their destination. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a grenade, which he unpinned and tossed down the hall.

 

"Get down!" The grenade went off, destroying several doors and walls, and taking out a few Nines anxiously awaiting the confrontation by those doors and walls. As their reinforcements joined them, Marc and the Jacks pressed on. He fired his shotgun randomly into several exposed rooms, often hitting someone. When ran out of shells, he switched to the Uzi strapped to his side. Nines poured out, and were gunned down fast. Marc and the Jacks shot at every one who came out as soon as they saw them. The floor began to pile up with bodies, and blood slicked the places that both sides tried to move on. Finally, it seemed that they had finished every member of the rival gang, when a man behind a counter in the farthest apartment in the hall called out.

 

"I'm still here, bitches! You ain't takin' me alive!"

 

"We don't plan to!" Marc called back. He advanced on the counter, expecting the final Nine to pop out. When he didn't, Marc emptied the clip from his Uzi at the counter, which crumbled away, leaving the final Nine, Crazy Hank, who was rumored to be a distant cousin of Carl Johnson, the famed gang leader who controlled half of far off San Andreas. He raised his .45, but Marc tossed his empty Uzi at him, and the bullet Crazy Hank fired mearly sent it flying. He shot again, and the bullet went wild. Marc reached for his Tech Nine, and Hank shot again, this time barely wizzing by Marc's head, and finding it's way into the head of a Jack a few feet away. Marc fired, and ended the rivalry between the Red Jacks and the South Side Nines forever.

 

 

 

 

"Can we kill 'em yet?" Luigi asked Joey.

 

"No, not yet. I'm waiting for Marc to be there for it," Joey responded. "It'll be so much more fun that way."

 

 

 

 

Marc lay in bed in his apartment in Staunton Island. Maria was cuddling him, but he couldn't concentrate. Or, more likely, he wasn't trying. He just wanted to escape from all that was happening, and his outlet at the moment was Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Still, he couldn't completely ignore the woman he loved, and eventually he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, almost protectively. She was more than willing to show her appreciation.

Edited August 23, 2004 by bored

[bored]

It's 'next entry starts a new post' time. Party on, Garth.

 

 

 

 

 

Joey sat patiently by his phone, awaiting word that the next advance was under way. When the call came, he could barely contain his excitement. This time, they were going after Maria.

 

 

 

Marc emerged from a large closet in the casino feeling a little bit relieved. He had refused to go far from Maria, who didn't want to be far from the protection of the Yakuza. While here, Asuka had had him running small errands inside the casino. In this case, that meant pummeling a card-counter until he agreed to pony up the money he'd gotten underhandedly. It was a good stress reducer.

 

 

 

 

Mafioso pulled up around the Kasen Casino in scores. This was not going to just be smash-and-grab. They intended on capturing both Maria and Asuka at the same time. They advanced on the rear of the casino en masse, and Yakuza emerged from inside to meet them. An Italian shot first. Only one Mafioso was killed in that first fire-fight, as their numbers were obviously superior, and Triad snipers were posted in strategic areas nearby, plucking Japanese men one by one.

 

 

"Both of you stay back!" Marc shouted. He slammed the door on Asuka's office, holding her and Maria inside with two Yakuza bodyguards. He turned his attention to the Yakuza around him. "I'm calling in reinforcements. I'll help you in a second."

 

He flipped on his phone, and called King Courtney. He managed to secure a squad of Yardies that could get there in the next few minutes, and ran out to join the Yakuza. He had gotten a stash of weapons in that morning, out of fear of something like this. He had stuffed two handguns in his belt, and had an Uzi strapped to his shirt. He ran out towards the kitchen exit with an AK47. Mafioso were still arriving in droves, and Triads were joining them. He had plenty of ammo, but this may need more than he had. He decided to shoot at the cars first. He fired mainly at gas tanks, blowing up a Triad van and two Mafia-issue Sentinels in the process. He and several Yakuza charged outside, firing at the invading gangs. They still seemd outnumbered, mainly by Italians, but several white and red Lobos began pulling up, and Yardies with handguns and Uzis jumped out, firing at the Triads. Marc replaced the clip on his AK, and blew up another Triad van, this one close enough so that the blast knocked him over.

 

 

Two non-descript men had used the chaos as a cover to leave the casino floor and go in search of Asuka and Maria. They knew the floor, and they were heavily armed enough to plow through an army.

 

 

After what seemed like an eternity of fire-fighting, though was only twenty minutes, the Triads and Mobsters pulled out, and ran. Yardy Lobos and Yakuza Stingers chased after them. Marc stayed behind, and raced inside to check on Maria. When he got to the fifth floor, Yakuza bodies littered the hallways. The stench was terrible. There had been lots of explosives used. His heart sank when he saw the door of Asuka's office open.

 

 

A few minutes earlier, the two men who had gone off in search of Asuka and Maria had burst out of the elevator tossing grenades down the hall. Yakuza fell like flies. One of them made it to the door of Asuka's office and kicked it open, but was shot by a bodyguard. The other tossed another grenade outside of the door, blowing up that bodyguard. He used the smoking debris of that blast to run into the room and fire a .45 at the remaining Yakuza guard. He approached Maria, who reached for her own gun, but he shot her in the knee, and grabbed her. Asuka tried to push her chair away, but he knocked her out of it and pistol-whipped her, knocking her unconscious. He picked her up as well, and struggled away.

 

 

Now, Marc was flying into a rage. The attack was a distraction. He pulled out his Uzi and ran. He could see a man hurrying to the front seat of his car. He could see someone in the back. It was Asuka, he knew it. Where was Maria?

 

He aimed the Uzi, and fired, but missed. The car took off, and Marc raced downstairs to the parking lot, where he tripped an elderly man fleeing to his car, took his keys, and jumped into the car, a Cheetah. He went zooming off, chasing after the man who had taken Asuka and, likely, Maria. Police were beginning to swarm the casino, and he had to drive like hell to get past them. A few went after him, but his faster car with it's better handling shook them quickly. He eventually saw the car the kidnapper was driving entering the Callahan Bridge. He chased after it, only to be cut off by Mafia issue Sentinels at the bridge enterance. Other traffic honked maliciously at the barricade. Marc leaned back in his seat, gunned the engine, and rammed one of the Sentinels. It went spinning away, but Marc was also stunned by the impact, and the Cheetah was damaged. He pulled his Uzi, and fired out the window at the wall of Sentinels. A door opened on the passenger side of his car, and a black-clad Mobster slid in and punched him across the jaw.

 

 

 

Marc opened his eyes. He had been beaten unconcious by the Mobster, and he had woken up in a dimly lit room furnished solely by the chair he sat in. He tried moving his arms. Tied up, what a surprise. The Mobster who had attacked him earlier burst in.

 

"Call him off!" He shouted. "Goddammit! Tell him you're alright and call him off!"

 

"There you are!" A familiar voice joined into the fray. Tony Cipriani burst in, swinging a chain in one hand, holding a gun in the other. "Come on, let's play." Tony shot the Mobster in the ankle, and smacked him across the face with the chain. "Hey, Marc!"

 

"Little help here?" Tony tossed away the man he was attacking and untied Marc. He helped him walk out, and told him the situation.

 

"I went to some old buddies with contacts in the Leone family. They're trying to mess with us, Marc. They're trying to hack away at our nerves, get us to do something crazy. It's all psychological. Joey's plane crazy. Ever since I got out of Portland, he's been fuming out his ears."

 

"Did he ever talk about something like this when you still worked for him?"

 

"He always said he wanted to find a good way to get you, but he never mentioned this. And getting all these other gangs to help is completely new to me. He's over the edge, and I think it's my fault."

 

The two headed out, and were met by a gang of Diablos. One of them shot at the two, and they jumped for cover. Hands grabbed Marc and Tony, and they were both choked. Marc grabbed the hands around his own neck and sqeezed the wrists, digging his fingernails into the assailant's skin. The hands eased, and he flipped his assailant over his shoulder, slamming him into a wall.

 

"Tony!" He called. Tony Cipriani was nowhere to be seen. He'd been dragged off just like the others. He was screwed. He looked to his surroundings. This looked like Portland. sh*t, he thought to himself. He looked to the Diablo who had tried to choke him. "Where am I?" He growled.

 

"P-" The Diablo stopped to spit blood out of his mouth. "Portland Heights."

 

"Okay." He looked around. There was an Esperanto unattended nearby. Marc slipped a clip out of his pocket, and opened the door. "Drive me home."

 

 

 

"Why is Leone doing this!?" Marc shouted at the captive Diablo.

 

"We don't know! He's just trying to mess with you! That's all I know!"

 

Marc had had enough of this. He shot the Diablo, and sped off to see King Courtney.

 

 

 

 

Rain dumped onto Staunton Island. The Yardies had agreed to guard Staunton from the Portland gangs, but not to join Marc in his assault he was planning on Joey Leone's home. His pager went off.

Come to my office. I have a business proposal. -D.L.

 

 

 

 

This hallway was all too familiar.

 

"Mr. Love, he's here," a secretary said. He hadn't even realized he'd gotten to Love's office already. "Please step inside Mr. Love's office."

 

Marc entered the massive office. It was all as he remembered it. The bearskin rug, the Asian tapestries, the fancy desk that was rumored to be redwood.

 

"Marc Horovitz. Have a seat."

 

"Whatever it is, make it quick, Love."

 

"I don't appreciate that attitude, Mr. Horovitz. I only want to speak with you."

 

"Sure. Then why is it that every time I've been in here, I've ended up killing someone because of it?"

 

"Business, Mr. Horovitz. I want to offer you a deal."

 

"Lemme hear it."

 

"I know of your situation. A man like me needs to know all he can about underworld activities. I can contribute resources to you that will help you, if you agree to work for me again."

 

"Bullsh*t. If you had the kinds of resources to help me, then why would you need someone like me to work for you?"

 

"Don't underestimate me, Mr. Horovitz."

 

"And don't patronize me, Mr. Love. Now good day. Or, as they say in New York, where I'm originally from: Go f*ck yourself."

 

 

 

 

No more hesitating now. Marc had to strike at the Leones now if he wanted his friends back. He had gone through his stash of weapons in his apartment, and loaded all he could into his Kuruma. He had informed the Yardies and the Red Jacks, and they were both positioned by the Callahan Bridge to keep out the Portland gangs that may try to chase him. He was near the uphill slope that would take him into the middle of St. Marks, where Joey lived. He was ready for anything now. He'd put on body armor to prevent from being shot, and had carried out several guns. People stared. Marc wasn't concerned. The time for stealth was long over. Now, what mattered was the attack. This infamous one man army was about to wage a war. And it wouldn't be pretty.

 

 

 

Tony looked around. This wasn't Joey's basement. He'd recognize that. And these weren't Mafioso working for the Leone family. He was in a van, between Shiro and Phil. Asuka, Maria, and 8Ball were opposite them. One of the definitely-not-Mobsters spoke to them.

 

"Now that you're all awake, I'd like to give you some information on where you are. My employer is a bit at odds with the Leones, and thought it would benefit him to take their advantage against a friend of yours away. I believe you know who I'm referring to."

 

"Marc?" Maria ventured. "Who do you work for? What does he want with Marc?"

 

"Very good, ma'am. And he merely wants your friend to return to his employment. He figured, correctly, it seems, that Marc wouldn't take well to it, so he ordered the six of you stolen from your former captors."

 

"And if he still says 'no'?" Shiro asked.

 

"Then you'll all be killed. But Mr. Love is hesitant to do that, so don't worry too much."

 

 

 

Marc charged past the entrance of the Leone household. He slammed into a Mafioso guard, and kicked him repeatedly in the head. Once he was done with that man, he grasped his AK47 and continued. Leones spotted him one by one and attacked. He opened fire, plowing down the Leone goons.

 

"Come on, you assholes! Bring it on!" He screamed. He ducked behind a tree, replaced the clip of his AK, and resumed his attack. He fired and fired, and Mobsters fell, but more kept coming. He didn't know how many there were, but there couldn't be many more. What he hadn't counted on was the fact that they were also surrounded by Triads. They poured in the entrance behind him, and charged. He turned to mow down the approaching Triads, but the Leones were advancing from the other side. He was outnumbered. He'd finally done it, gotten himself into a mess he couldn't get out of. This was the time for him to just fire away and go out guns blazing, literally. He fired everywhere he saw movement, until he was out of ammo for his AK. At this point he tossed the gun down and took out the shotgun strapped to his back. A Triad got close and raised a bat, but he took his head off as soon as he saw him. He ran into the driveway and fired at a Leone Mobster. He could hear choppers in the distance. Police? No, they would stay away from here. He kept shooting at his many adversaries. They surrounded him on the driveway. The choppers got closer. He kept shooting. Soon, three choppers were above them. The Mobsters and Triads were confused. One of the choppers swooped a few feet above the tree line and shot at the Triads.

 

 

Marc suddenly knew who this cavalry was. Mobsters and Triads ran away, and the choppers landed in a clear area. Marc awaited the man who owned them all to step out. He couldn't easily deny it, but something inside of him wanted to believe it wasn't who he thought it was. Because, with this man, just being around him was trouble, not unlike Marc. The door to one of the choppers opened. A Hispanic woman stepped out, followed by a man who appeared to have just entered middle age, and grudgingly., at that.

 

"Hey there Horovitz!" The man called.

 

"Uh, hey Tommy. What's up?"

Edited August 26, 2004 by bored

[bored]

Yes, Tommy has arrived. Now, things get fun.

 

 

 

 

 

Marc stared in awe. Cubans, Italians, Haitians, Japanese, everyone. He had seen it before, when he'd visited Vice City with Maria, but the sight was always amazing. Over the course of about twenty years, he had conquered every criminal organization and united them under his rule. Tommy Vercetti had turned bitter enemies into lackies, or, if they were uncooperative, into compost. The man looked like he was only entering middle age after a long, drawn-out battle. His wife looked like she was fighting that same battle right now. And the legions of thugs they employed were wiping the Leone defenses clean.

 

"I'm disappointed, Marc. I thought you'd be able to handle this by yourself," Tommy jibed.

 

"What are you doing here?" Marc asked.

 

"Asuka called a few days ago, asked for a little help. I figured I'd come up and see this place again. God, it's been so long."

 

"Dulce, the guys say there's no sign of Asuka or Maria or anyone else in here," Mercedes Cortez-Vercetti said.

 

"Have they searched the whole place?"

 

"Most of it."

 

"Ok, tell 'em to finish it up, then we'll go hunting. What about the Don?"

 

"No sign," Mercedes answered. "But we did find this rat."

 

Two Cubans dragged Luigi Goterelli by his arms.

 

"Vercetti!" Luigi shouted.

 

"Yeah, I know my name. Now tell me where Leone is, like a nice little boy."

 

"I shoulda known you and him were workin' together!"

 

"Actually, he just sorta showed up," Marc cut in. "But you still need to tell us where Joey is, and where my friends are."

 

"Your friends ain't here."

 

"f*ck you!" Marc yelled, and he kicked Luigi in the gut.

 

"I ain't lyin'! I swear it!" Luigi pleaded. "A mole swiped 'em all from us!"

 

"A mole? From who?" Tommy asked.

 

"I don't know! And Joey took off after that! He didn't say where he went."

 

"Whatever," Tommy moaned. "Boys, work him over for a while. See if you can get anything new outta him."

 

 

 

Donald Love was eager to see the what came of his newest idea. Taking Marc's friends gave him the perfect leverage. If he wanted to continue his strangle-hold on this city, he needed the best criminal around. He only wondered why this man had only popped up in the last year or so. He picked up his phone, and dialed to give the news to that excellent worker bee Marc Horovitz.

 

 

 

Donald Love had them. Holy God in Heaven, they had been taken by Donald Love, and Marc had pissed that man off severely. He had insisted to Tommy that he needed to confront Love alone. Now he was venturing into the belly of the beast, Donald Love's office building. He had agreed to come unarmed. This was going to be a civil visit. Normally, he'd have smelled a rat, but that just wasn't Love's style. He entered Love's office. They were all there. Maria, Phil, 8Ball, everyone. They were tied up and held at gunpoint And Donald Love was there as well.

 

"Mr. Horovitz, hello," Love greeted.

 

"What do you want?"

 

"Getting down to business. I like that. You know what I want."

 

"All this just to get me to work for you again. Forgive me for being skeptical."

 

"Why would I lie to you? I would gain nothing. I was never more powerful than during the all-too-brief period when you were in my service." He left his desk and walked to Marc. He whispered into his ear. "And I could also reveal things about that service that would likely put you in the doghouse for years. For instance, what happened to Asuka's brother, Kenji. Though I'm sure you'd rather continue having them believe the Columbians are responsible."

 

Marc thought for a second, then grabbed Love and put him in a headlock.

 

"Ah-ah, Marc. Men, fire on my word!"

 

"No!" Marc shouted, and let Love go. "Ok, we'll talk."

 

"Good. Now, when can you start?"

 

Marc sighed. "What's my job?"

 

"Go find the single-engine Dodo at Francis International Airport. A contact of mine left a payment I'm owed under the pilot's seat. Be quick about it. You don't want me to suspect you've betrayed me. Your friends would not appreciate that, either. I'd be sure of that."

 

 

 

 

It was called a Dodo for a reason. The term was slang for a small plane who's wings have mostly been stripped off. The package was there, sure enough, and Marc had no trouble getting it. He had to slip past several security guards at the front, but it was simple enough just to go around the back, through the hills that most people couldn't even think of going through. Unfortunately for him, security had spotted him. Since he had last been on the tarmac, security cameras had been installed. He hadn't driven in, but he had a way to get out fast. He hotwired the plane, and sped off towards the runway. This plane would be hard to fly, but if he kept it level, it could be done. He took off at the end of the runway, being sure to aim the nose as straight and perpendicular to the ground as possible. He had barely taken off when the gunshots started. Security guards were firing at the small plane, and made it shake too much. He needed to keep it level, and he was starting to lose altitude.

 

"Goddammit!" He yelled. "How the hell do I work this thing? Come on Marc, keep cool, and pull the wheel upward a little." He continued talking to himself. "It's not working! Oh sh*t, what do I do? Uhh.. Stay up plane! No. Umm.. Come on Chitty, PLEASE!"

 

He barely skidded onto a dock that could hardly support the plane shortly after. He grabbed the case with the money, and quickly left the dock. He hated water, so being there always gave him a sense of vertigo.

 

 

 

In the car, Marc's pager went off. Love had relocated his friends do a different location. That little bastard.

 

 

 

"Excellent work, Marc. It's good to have you back. I don't someone else would be as resourceful as you," Love said. He paid a good $20,000 for that job.

 

 

 

Something wasn't right in Portland. Tommy Vercetti had anticipated finding another Leone stronghold where he could locate Joey Leone, but none of the suggestions Luigi Goterelli had made checked out. All that was left was Sex Club 7, the strip club. He had sent some of his men to check it out, not wanting to deal with all the strippers while Mercedes was around. His phone wrang.

 

"Boss!" One of his men said. "We got 'em on the run! A couple of Sentinels are headed your way!"

 

"How close?" Tommy asked.

 

"Couple of blocks, it looks like."

 

Tommy hung up and ordered his men to be on the ready, and to keep Joey Leone alive. He would love to deal with this cocky dynasty himself.

 

 

 

Marc's heart sank everytime he looked at the money Love had paid him. That was it, he was back in this creep's service. He made a mental note to kill Love as soon as he had his friends back.

 

 

 

Tommy clutched an Uzi in anticipation of the coming clash. He could already see the Sentinels approaching.

 

"Will the cops bother us?" He asked one of his lieutenants.

 

"No. When a group like the Leones is involved, they usually stay away," the lieutenant responded.

 

"Good." He looked to his wife. "Mercedes, stay back." She complied.

 

The Sentinels pulled in across the street. They were settled in 8Ball's autoyard in Harwood, where Marc's best friend had onced based his business, before fleeing the Leones, who had chased after him for helping Marc. Tommy raised a hand to his men, ordering them to stay back. The Leone Mafioso exited their cars, including Joey. They spotted Tommy and his men, and charged. Tommy ordered them to fire. The fight began, bullets sprayed, and men died, fast, on both sides.

 

A few Leones got back into a Sentinel and sped away, one of them being Joey. Tommy was just ashamed of the man. So unsportsmanlike. He headed back towards the shack his wife was hiding in.

 

"Mercedes!" He called. "How you holding up?"

 

"I'm fine, dulce," she answered.

 

"Guys, are there any Leones left here?"

 

"None. They all either died or cut and ran," an Italian gunman responded.

 

Tommy put his Uzi down, and Mercedes emerged from her hiding spot. She took her husband's arm, and they surveyed the battleground. It had been a quick fight, that the Vercetti gang had one by forfeit, it seemed. They searched the immediate area for Sentinels, but none were there. Instead, the only car that hadn't fleed from the fire fight was a navy blue Stallion that had been flamed out on the sides, and it was finally moving. Tommy was suddenly nervous. It took off, past the entrance the autoyard, and the window was down, a gun sticking out of it. Shots went out, and a Haitian in Vercetti's gang went down first, his blood splattering another man behind him. The next shot was aimed at Tommy. It missed, and instead slammed into Mercedes Cortez-Vercetti. She screamed in pain, and slumped to the ground. Blood covered her shirt, pouring from her shoulder.

 

"Mercedes!" Tommy shouted. He wheeled on some of his men. "Go after them! Bring those sh*t-heads to me! And keep them alive! I want to deal with them myself."

 

He called out to a driver to get his wife to a hospital immediately. She'd be ok if they could get the bullet out before she could contract lead poisoning, and neither Tommy nor any of his lackies could do that safely. This had started out as a favor to a business associate. Now it was personal. Nobody harmed Tommy Vercetti's family and got away with it. Nobody.

Edited August 28, 2004 by bored

[bored]

*sings* Breakin' the Law, Breakin' the Law!

 

 

 

 

 

Donald Love hit the button on his intercom, contacting his secretary.

 

"Sarah, where exactly is this new location?"

 

"The driver said it was in your warehouse in Aspatria," Sarah responded.

 

"What?! Sarah, I sold that warehouse two months ago! All of my drivers know that!"

 

 

 

They had killed scores of his men, they had ruined his plan, and they had captured his lieutenant. But he had gotten his prisoners back. Joey Leone made it a point to have a mole in every major business operation he could, though he wished he could've known about the one that had been sent by Love earlier. That wasn't important now. He had his bait back, and he was tired of playing games with Marc. It was time for business now. First, he needed to get Love out of the way.

 

 

"Ok, I'm working for you again, now tell me where they are!" Marc growled. Donald Love squirmed.

 

"Well, you see..." He started, trying to think of an excuse. "That 'new location' doesn't exist. We, um, we never actually moved them."

 

"Don't f*ck with me, Love! You've got what you wanted, now let them go!"

 

"Mr. Horovitz, do you have any idea what kind of a situation you're in? I can order them all killed before you get to where any of them are. I'm still in control. They are in this building, and are more heavily guarded than even you can manage. You can't kill pressure mines in the floor."

 

 

Marc stormed off in a huff. He knew that Love was right, but dammit, he hated the man. Still, something didn't seem right about his manner today. Love seemed off balance.

 

 

 

If Marc was annoyed by Love, and Love was anxious over Marc, then both would have heart attacks if they knew that a supposed janitor working at Love Media's headquarters was planting a time bomb in the basement. A long time janitor on the verge of retirement had planted it earlier, and set it for five hours. The payment offered by the Leone family was more than any retirement benefits Love Media offered.

 

 

 

"How's Mercedes?" Marc asked, over the phone.

 

"Hurt bad, and she lost alot of blood, but she'll be ok," Tommy Vercetti answered, and it was clear to Marc that he had just gotten the news himself, and was incredibly relieved.

 

"What about the guy that shot her?"

 

"He's been tracked down. My boys're bringing him to me," Tommy said. "Look, I've gotta go. My wife just woke up, and she's freaking out."

 

"Bye." Click.

 

Marc looked out over Fort Staunton. This never-finished construction site was now run by the Yakuza, who were at the moment without leadership. He came up here, to a partially finished upper level, the think sometimes. It was at times like this that he realized that he could just as easily go home. Not to his apartment, or that mansion in Shoreside, but his real home: New York City. He had simply given it up when he had escaped police custody with 8Ball that night that seemed ages ago. He had had a life there. He was as succesful a car thief as he needed to be, and he had his family there. He didn't even think about the fact that he hadn't even spoken to his parents, or his younger brother and sister, in what was closing in on a year and a half. He was a man of instinct, most of the time. He had come here with an ambitious girlfriend who had betrayed him, and instinct for revenge had kept him here at first. He had spent months psyching himself up for his confrontation with Catalina, yet had gotten himself into so much during that time period. He had betrayed the Leones out of instinct for survival. He hadn't even thought of getting to Don Salvatore and explaining himself, and how Maria had only had a crush on him. But he hadn't. He'd instinctively gone with Maria and her Japanese friend Asuka to Staunton Island, and then, barely even thinking about it, had killed Salvatore. Instinct had taken over his life. He wasn't just some talented car-jacker anymore. He had built a reputation here quickly as a deadly assassin and an efficient errand boy. God, he hated it sometimes. He knew he could easily end it all now. Just get a ticket on the next flight to La Guardia out of Francis International, and be back home. Instinct for flight, because he'd had enough of fight. He could wash himself clean of Leones, and Yakuza, and Yardies, and Forellis, and Triads, and Donald Love and 8Ball and Maria and oh God who was he kidding? This was home now. It was what mattered. It wasn't instinct to want to save his best friend, and the woman he loved, and to destroy the people who had harmed him so much. New York didn't matter anymore. Liberty City was everything. He wasn't the same Marc Horovitz who had gotten a rush from swiping rich guys' cars and getting to sleep with the daughter of a major Columbian drug lord. He had direction now. No more self-doubt. He wasn't that kid anymore, nor was he Fido, the lap dog who did jobs for every cocky crime boss in this Godforsaken city. He was a feared, respected man who was terrified himself. This was like a test. The test to see if he could reach that next level. He wouldn't be the same after this. He had to deal with the most powerful people in the city if he wanted this to end well. He wanted to be able to plan missions with Asuka and Tony again, harass small time gangs with 8Ball again, hold Maria close in his cheap apartment during rainstorms again. He would get all that back. And not even Love's threats could stop him. He would have his friends back. He didn't care about what happened to the Yardies or the Red Jacks or the Vercetti Gang anymore. He would make his stand today.

 

 

 

 

Maria rubbed her thigh above her shot knee. She'd never been shot before, and this was painful as anything she could imagine. Marc, her Marc, had been shot many times before, and had come through alright. She missed him all of the sudden. She couldn't think of Asuka, beaten to a pulp by Triad thugs, or Shiro, who could very well be dead. She wanted the man who had taken her from Salvatore Leone to come bursting into this warehouse in Portland, guns blazing, as he had done for her when Catalina had taken her. And she knew he would. He would not let her down.

 

 

 

 

Lobos flanked the familiar blue Kuruma. Marc had armed himself heavily, and was going to take no prisoners. He'd killed hundreds before, so a few lackies for a rich brat like Love would be nothing. He got out of his car a block from Love Headquarters, with his usual assortment of guns. Six Yardies joined him, among them King Courtney himself. Police were showing up.

 

"Get these guys out of my business," Marc said, calmly and loudly to the Yardies. They dispersed, and began taunting the police. King Courtney stayed by him. Marc looked around. The Rumpos he had anticipated were arriving. The Red Jacks were joining the fun. Security guards from Love Headquarters were coming outside to meet Marc and the people he led. He opened fire, as did Courtney. They weren't even near the building yet. Marc had turned after dispatching the guards to see the firefight between the small police force and the Yadies and Jacks. He was only turning back in time to see the explosion. There was a sound that was louder than anything he'd ever imagined, and dust filled his vision. He was knocked on his ass, as was King Courtney. By the time the dust had settled enough to see clearly, Love HQ was gone. Rubble was all that remained. Sirens went off everywhere. Marc could barely even sit up. His friends had been in there. He buried his face in his arms and knees, and, for the first time in seven years, cried. Cried until he couldn't anymore. The steely-faced legendary criminal was crying, showing more emotion than many people knew he was capable of. It would be the stuff of legend for years to come.

Edited August 31, 2004 by bored

[bored]

Is anyone still reading this? Cuz I'd like to know. Don't be afraid to comment on the latest installments if you have anything to say.

 

 

 

 

What could he do? Marc was seething with rage at the Leones. Who else would have done this? Love had humiliated them by taking their hostages, and they wanted payback. Marc only wondered who their new explosives man was, or if this was a left-over design of 8Ball's.

 

He stopped himself at the thought of 8Ball. There would be no more 8Ball. No more going and terrorizing some wannabe gangsters, or crashing parties, or just getting drunk and joking around anymore. If not for 8Ball, nothing that had gone on with him in Liberty City would have happened. That was a bullet that would go straight into Joey Leone's heart. He liked that idea, shooting Joey once for all six of them. One in his spine for Asuka, one in his left arm for Phil, one in his right arm for Shiro (since he couldn't think of anything creative for the little Japanese man), one in his gut for Tony, and ever bullet he had left in Joey's head, and chest, and knees, and hands, and his crotch, and everywhere else he felt like shooting him for Maria. The love of his life, who he had gone through so much for, was dead. People would die for this. Marc would make sure of it, and he'd just figured out the perfect way to do it.

 

 

 

 

"So you say people really want to see midgets?" El Burro asked 8Ball, curiously.

 

"Yeah, man," 8Ball responded. "It's wierd, I know, but the little people got a good little niche in your industry."

 

"I'll keep that in mind."

 

El Burro could only hope that Marc really believed that the six of his friends were dead, or there would be trouble for the Diablos.

 

 

Joey Leone looked anxiously at his phone. No news yet of an attack by Horovitz. He had Triads, Diablos, and his own Mobsters, guarding the various points in the city where the six people Marc would want to avenge were actually located. And the Forellis had even offered to put away there rivalry with the Leones and help with security. Marc had pissed them off too, after all.

 

 

 

"You guys got the tab ready?" Marc asked.

 

"Yeah, but it's a lot," D-Ice answered. He was with Marc at Phil's ammo-field with the Red Jacks, Yardies, and the Vercetti Gang. They gathered weapons from the various shacks, and Marc insisted that they know how much to leave to Phil's family. But it wasn't the guns that he really cared about. As guilty over it as he felt, he was giddy at the prospect of finally driving the Rhino.

 

 

 

Two cops in a police car saw the tank driving up to the Callahan Bridge.

 

"Umm..."

 

"I think that's the one we're supposed to ignore."

 

"The damn thing just knocked a car off the road!"

 

"Listen, we can retire ten years early each if we do what we're supposed to do. Leave it alone."

 

 

 

People panicked at the sight of the Rhino tank. Marc was better at driving the thing than he'd expected. He had just taken it over the Callahan Bridge with decent success (though a few people who he'd never meet would beg to differ). Now he was entering Chinatown, ready to start his rampage on the Portland gangs. He hit 'talk' on his cell phone, which was hooked up to a speaker phone.

 

"Tommy," He said. "You know what to do."

 

"Sure do. Good luck," Tommy Vercetti responded.

 

Marc hung up and called D-Ice, telling him to have the Red Jacks keep any of the Portland gang members from escaping the island. Tommy and his people were off to search for the Leones, while the Yardies were flanking Marc's tank.

 

People ran in mass hordes away from the tank as it drove into Chinatown. Marc thought to himself that it was almost like a Godzilla movie. He drove it deep into the area, and aimed at a laundry store.

 

Boom!

 

Windows all along the street rattled, and Triads started to appear. The Yardies left the sides of the tank and chased after them. Marc turned off into a square that was blocked by small, cement pylons. They gave quickly under the tank's treads. More people ran and screamed. There was a jiggling sound to his side. A Triad was trying to get in. Marc turned the wheel sharply, and the tank turned much more quickly than it was meant to. He heard a scraping and crunching sound, and corrected the direction of the tank. When he came to the other stretch of the enclosed square, he turned the turret of the tank, and aimed at a resteraunt that Triad leader Lee Wen Ha owned, and fired.

 

"Teach you to serve bad kim chi!" He laughed. But it only got better when he spotted Lee Wen Ha himself stumbling out of a store on the other side of the street, covered in glass shards. He gunned the engine as best he could, and charged at the Chinese crime boss. A fish van at the end of the street opened it's door, and Wen went running to it. Marc fired at the van, and the explosion knocked Wen back. He struggled to get up, as the Rhino came charging. Wen could only gape in terror as the tank came over him.

 

"Flatter than the beer at your resteraunt!" Marc shouted with sadistic delight. Having been satisfied with the damage done to the Triads, Marc left Chinatown and headed for the Red Light District, where he'd go after the Diablos, and maybe even take a shot at the Sex Club 7. The Yardy cars joined him again, most of them splattered with blood on the fronts, and they headed for El Burro and his gang.

 

 

 

"Burro!" A Diablo shouted. "The tank is headed this way!"

 

"I know," El Burro answered. "Get those two guys outside. I think we've got a good way to keep him off of us."

 

The Diablo ran off to retrieve 8Ball and Phil.

 

 

 

Marc drove the tank down the street that led to Hepburn Heights. As he passed Sex Club 7, the spot where 8Ball had brought him to first introduce him to the Leone family, he swung the turret and crashed it through the window, breaking all the windows in the front. He swung the turret back in place, going down that eerily familiar street, until he reached the apartment complex in Hepburn Heights that El Burro lived in and the Diablos operated out of. Scores of Diablos waited for him, and behind them was El Burro himself, with two people with him. One was a fat white man with one arm, the other was....

 

"Holy sh*t!" He saw them on the screen in his tank, but he couldn't believe it. 8Ball and Phil were there in front of him, and alive. He brought the tank to a halt, grabbed his Uzi, and jumped out.

 

"Marc!" Phil shouted. "Marc, it's a trap!"

 

Diablos poured out of the nearby apartments. There could easily be a hundred of them, which Marc guessed to be all that were left now. He could change that. The Yardies pulled up and left their cars. Diablos armed mainly with handguns and bats stirred. Marc held out his arm to keep the Yardies back.

 

"'Eh Marc! What took ya so long?" 8Ball said.

 

"Glad to f*ckin' see you too," Marc shot back. "Burro!"

 

Diablos parted, and El Burro stepped out.

 

"You call me, ese?" He sneered.

 

"I thought you were afraid of me. This is new," Marc said, itching to bring his gun up and start shooting.

 

"You are a tough man, Senor Horovitz, and you are a rich man, but Don Leone, he's a business man. He really got his sh*t together. And he says if we help take you down, we're under Leone protection for life."

 

"Point being?"

 

"They were the ones to watch before you showed up. The Yakuza ain't nothing without you, neither are those Jamaicans."

 

The Yardies were getting Marc's itchy trigger finger.

 

"Ok then, so what about the hard part?"

 

"And that is?"

 

"Going through me." He raised his gun, and shot El Burro in the chest. Diablos charged, and the Yardies came forward to meet them. Marc sprayed bullets at the approaching gang. None had better weapons than he did. He ran forward, firing and looking for his friends. He spotted them behind a bench. He could see that 8Ball's hands were tied behind his back, and the rope tying them was attached to Phil's one wrist. He had to get them out. A Diablo with a bat tried to attack him. He dropped down and kicked the gangster's knee, knocking him to the ground in pain. He left the Diablo to his broken knee, and continued towards 8Ball and Phil.

 

 

 

"Come on man!" 8Ball urged. Phil continued sawing the rope on the edge of the bench. It finally snapped all the way. A Diablo appeared behind 8Ball, who spun around and slammed a fist into the Diablo's temple. He took the gun that the Diablo had dropped, shot him, and guestered to Phil to follow.

 

"What is he doing with my Rhino!?" Phil growled.

 

"Man, shut up!"

 

 

 

Marc quickly replaced the clip on his Uzi. 8Ball and Phil had freed themselves, and he now needed to get them to safety. Diablos had fallen all around them, but so had several Yardies.

 

"Get to the tank and get in!" Marc ordered. He turned his attention to the Yardies. "Pull back!"

 

 

 

8Ball had confirmed what Marc had been hoping for since seeing him alive. Maria was still alive, though she'd been hurt. He would deal with that when the time came. He needed to save her. Neither 8Ball nor Phil knew where the others were being held.

 

 

 

A doctor looking at Mercedes Cortez-Vercetti's charts was dismayed. He was only supposed to kill her if there was a chance that the gunshot she had taken was going to be fatal already, which it wasn't. This could be nothing to lead back to the Forellis. If she was supposed to live, but then died, someone as smart as Tommy Vercetti would smell a rat, and could easily trace it back to his former allies. Still, the doctor, who had recently been put on the Forelli's payroll, wanted to do something. He could lie, couldn't he? Say that she had been lost on his care unintentionally. With his poor history that had only been covered with lots of string-pulling, it'd be believable. His brothers had been killed, at seperate times, by Vercetti down in Vice City. He lifted his hand to a blood bag that was refilling Mercedes's system, and got ready to squeeze down on it. Doing that would send it rushing into the woman's body too quickly for her to handle, and likely give her a heart attack. He was going to, when the door burst open.

 

"Touch it, and you die!" It was that rat Vercetti. "I saw what you were doing there pal!"

 

The doctor gaped in horror. The same fate his brothers had met, he now would. Tommy grabbed him, and slammed his head into the wall.

 

"Now aren't you glad I'm in a good mood?" Vercetti said to the bleeding doctor.

Edited September 5, 2004 by bored

[bored]

If I included pornography with every post, would that get you guys to keep reading?

 

 

 

 

 

Not a damn clue. Not a single idea at all of where Maria was. To hell with the rest of them, where's Maria? Marc thought angrily. Neither Phil nor 8Ball knew her location. Since finding out she was alive, all Marc could think about was rescuing his love.

 

"Tommy, where else are the Leones hiding?" He asked.

 

"Check that autoyard in Harwood. We think they set up shop there after our fire-fight."

 

 

 

He and 8Ball were armed and ready to kill. This was going to be the end of the Leones, of that they were sure. Marc's Kuruma was loaded with weaponry, and plenty of explosives for 8Ball to play with. They passed the hils that led up to St. Marks, the area that Marc once claimed he owned as a joke, and where Tony Cipriani and Salvatore Leone would give him assignments. They headed into 8Ball's old stomping ground of Harwood. Marc could only hope he could retrieve a still safe Maria from this.

 

 

not a big initial post, i know, but more will come tomorrow

[gatorman47]

i've been reading ur story in installments over the past couple of days whenever I had a little free time and I just finished what you've posted so far.....I think it's a great story and I hope you keep it going, I know it would really piss me off if you didn't finish it. keep up the good work......here's a bundle of for keeping me entertained.

[bored]

hooray for cookies! and don't worry, i do plan to finish this. i'm just in a bit of a lull right now, trying to think of the next installment. i really do want feedback on what everyone thinks of the directions the plot has been going in, because that's something i was worried wouldn't come across well.

 

 

alright, lemme see what i can do tonight.

 

 

 

Marc and 8Ball watched what was once 8Ball's Autoyard from the gas station across the street. Marc cocked his shotgun, while 8Ball put a fresh clip in an AK-47.

 

"You know the drill, Marc," 8Ball said. "You do your thing with the sniper rifle, and i go in and do the dirty work from close-up. Once you're out of ammo from the snipe, you get your guns and help me in the Yard."

 

"Ahh, just like old times," Marc grinned. "Let's kick some ass."

 

"I like the sound of that."

 

 

 

8Ball was friends with the manager of the gas station, giving Marc the excellent vantage point of the top of the building. He aimed at a Leone Mobster at the entrance. 8Ball was anxiously waiting nearby to make his charge. Marc put his finger, which was moist with sweat, and fired. The crack of the shot was lost in the noises of the city, but 8Ball heard it. He ran forward, AK raised and ready to fire. He blasted another guarding Mobster. Marc had started with ten shots in his rifle, and he spent the second on a mobster behind a Sentinel, who was crouched and ready to shoot at 8Ball.

 

 

Sweat poured down his forehead. 8Ball sprayed bullets everywhere. That this whole area was once his got to him a little. He had ran from it when the Leones had suspected him of protecting the renegade Marc Horovitz, who had himself come to rescue him. But that was a different time. He saw that old, run down school bus that had always served as both a conversation piece and a place to bring dates back in the day. A mobster was aiming at him from it, until blood sprayed from his head, and he slumped back. Good old Fido, 8Ball thought.

 

 

Marc had two more shots, but no visible targets.

 

 

8Ball kicked open the door to his old workshop. He smashed a guarding mobster in the head with his gun, and shot the other in the room.

 

"8Ball!" It was Tony. "Untie me!"

 

 

Marc squeezed off his last two shots at approaching Leone mobsters, took his shotgun, and went running.

 

 

 

Tony grabbed a mobster's handgun and joined 8Ball.

 

"They've got the Japanese guy in the other trailer," he explained. "I don't think he's too heavily guarded. Did you do all this?"

 

8Ball surveyed the gory ground. "Naw, Marc's been sniping 'em out."

 

"Damn. He's still got it."

 

They broke into the second trailer. There were only two guards here. 8Ball shot the first one, and Tony ran his shoulder into the other one. He held his gun to the guard's head, while 8Ball untied Shiro.

 

Another mobster headed towards the second trailer, but was felled by a shotgun blast to the abdomen. Marc walked past him, the color drained from his face.

 

"Who's here?" He asked eagerly. 8Ball didn't even need to respond. Marc saw Tony and Shiro, and knew that Maria wasn't here.

 

 

 

Eyes were stuck on Tommy Vercetti as he entered Mark's Bistro. Sonny Forelli waited for him in a booth in the corner. Forelli-employed Mafioso surrounded him.

 

"Okay Sonny, I'm here," Tommy said.

 

"Yes, Mr. Vercetti, or should I say Don Vercetti?" Forelli replied.

 

"Forelli, I eat grease-balls like you for breakfast. I'm here for the straight-talk. Why did you try to kill my wife?"

 

"What makes you think we did it?"

 

"Your planted doctor, he caves once his head's been bashed up a bit," Vercetti smirked.

 

"Tommy, you were once so good to us. I guess I'm stil just a bit sore from you kicking our entire operation out of Vice City. This was to be a repercussion that was long overdue. And I don't appreciate being compared to the nobodies you deal with in Vice. You know as well as anyone that I am high above them."

 

"And you forget a major detail, Forelli."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I am high above you!"

 

Tommy got up, turned, and left. A minute later, he came back in with chainsaw. Several patrons got up, pulled out guns, and pointed them at Sonny Forelli and his guards. Tommy ordered one of the supposed patrons to grab the guards. They tried to put up a fight, and were all shot down.

 

"Pack up Forelli," he ordered. Another Forelli goon tried to sneak up behind him. Tommy heard him with enough time to swing around and kick out the goon's knee. He revved his chainsaw, and went to work. The people still living in the resteraunt turned away from the gruesome sight.

 

 

 

Continuing to sniff out Leone strongholds, Marc and King Courtney investigated the Leone mansion. The usual armada of Sentinels wasn't there. Courtney sent his Yardies to search out the many rooms of the house. Marc led a few upstairs, pausing at a barely touched room that he quickly guessed once housed Maria, back when she was the mistress of that disgusting now-deceased Don Salvatore Leone.

 

"'Ey white boy!" A Yardy called.

 

"I have a name," Marc growled, in full on brooding mode.

 

"Oh yeah," the Yardy laughed. "Fido."

 

"Don't call me that!" Marc shouted, as he pulled out a gun. "Now listen, Rasta-man, I am in no f*cking mood for this! Now, I can do alot of sh*t to you right now to shut you up, but your boss is a buddy of mine, and he wouldn't like that. Still, it would not be wise at all to test my patience!"

 

The Yardy stepped back. Marc turned and stormed down the dark hallway.

 

"White boy needs to get laid."

 

Marc came back, grabbed the Yardy's hair, and slammed his head into a wall.

 

"I told you, I have a name!"

 

 

 

Marc sat by himself on the rooftop of the warehouse that his old apartment had been in. Here he had used to go when he had lived in Portland, running jobs for the Diabloes and the Leones. He could sit up here, listen to the ambiance of the city (honking horns, shouting people, the odd gunshot), and just brood. He needed that now. This was the perfect place for it, and this is where 8Ball knew he'd find him.

 

"How ya holdin'?"

 

"Eh. I've been better," Marc responded. "What'd you hear from Verch?"

 

"He splattered some Forellis today. I haven't seen him, but word is he's got Sonny Forelli in interrogation. Says he might be in it with the Leones."

 

"That seems odd."

 

"Yeah, I know. Those two camps ain't ever gotten along. Guess they've just got something in common."

 

"Heh, yeah. They hate me. I never did much to the Forellis, but it does seem to be a trend." Marc sighed, and looked into the night sky. "Full moon tonight."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Maria always likes draggin' me outside to look at the full moon when we're not out doing stuff. I don't want this to be the first full moon we've missed."

 

"It won't be, dog. Trust me, it won't be."

Edited September 11, 2004 by bored

[bored]

new post time!

 

 

 

 

On the very same floor of the hospital that Mercedes Cortes-Vercetti was recuperating on, a chubby, tattooed, bald Mexican man had just woken up after being shot almost fatally. His vision was blurry, but he could see the man sitting by his bed.

 

"Dionisio Vasquez. So that's your real name. Ya know something, Burro, you should've stuck with it. I mean, I know El Burro seems like a funny name for an aspiring porno star, but when you do your gang thing, the real name is just so much more commanding."

 

"Y-you," El Burro stammered. "You already shot me, Horovitz. What do you want now?"

 

"Two of my friends are still in Leone captivity. Where is Joey holding them?"

 

"The Jap lady-" Marc grabbed Burro's throat.

 

"Her name is Asuka."

 

Burro choked, and managed to acknowledge this.

 

"Ok, ok. Asuka is at Joey's body shop."

 

 

 

Burro hadn't known where Maria was, but if he could rescue Asuka, maybe someone guarding her would know. He would need a good way to get in, since it was going to be more heavily guarded than anything.

 

 

 

"So how long've you been in the Yazuka?" A ditzy red-head asked the tied up Asuka.

 

"Yakuza!" She snapped back. "And I have been a part of it all my life. The Kasen clan has been one of the most powerful Yakuza clans outside of Japan for over fifty years. And it is done with honor and strength, unlike your cowardly Italian friend."

 

"Hey, you watch what you say over my Joey!"

 

"Dear, what did you say your name was, again?"

 

"Misty."

 

"Listen, Misty: if Joey truly cared about you, why are you still a hooker? Has he ever even mentioned marriage?"

 

"Joey can do what he wants!" Misty shot back.

 

"You know, dear, if you weren't so stupid, you'd be attractive."

 

"Hey!" Misty clenched her fists. "But I do look good, right?"

 

"Oh, of course, my little flame-haired friend. I bet you could do amazing things whose legs."

 

Misty was a little flattered, but could resist saying: "At least mine work."

 

"Believe me, dear, I don't need my legs to work, if you understand me."

 

"Hey Misty! Come here!" Joey Leone shouted from outside. Misty turned and went to him, though looked back at Asuka, her cheeks flushed.

 

Asuka chuckled. She was getting her way out.

 

 

 

 

Tony took a deep breath, and finally allowed himself to look around at Momma's Ristorante. Here he had once spent most of his days, giving missions to various Mafia underlings as a chief Consiglieri of the Leone family. Weeks ago, he'd had to run from this place forever, or so he had thought. It would have been alright. His mother had died, and left Tony Cipriani with several outstanding overdue bills and taxes, which she had never mentioned in her life. He didn't have the kind of money to pay them, and Joey wouldn't give him anything. Tony didn't like Joey as the Don. He was too unpredictable, and his decisions rarely made sense. Salvatore had been violent and paranoid, but at least he knew how to run an organization. So Tony had stolen money from them, and ran to the protection of the Yakuza. Luigi still stayed by Joey's side like an obedient animal, or he had until Vercetti had caught him.

 

He looked out over the terrace at that familiar sloping street on St. Mark's. He was suddenly more enthusiastic than ever about Marc and Tommy uprooting the Leones. He could have his resteraunt back.

 

Shots rang out. He shifted his eyes to see down the slope. Triads were approaching. Tony sighed.

 

"Well, looks like I've got work to do," he said to himself. He called to a few of Vercetti's men, picked up his shotgun, and headed down the stairs.

 

A Triad fish van guarded two of the Chinese thugs.

 

"Blow up the van!" Tony shouted to his aides. Shots came from the guns of the Vercetti Gang. Tony blasted at the van with his shotgun, and fluid spilled from the bottom of it. A fireball soared past his head. When it was in his plane of vision, he could see that one of Vercetti's men had tossed a Molotov cocktail, which ignited the fluid from the truck. Fires raged until the truck blew. Tony braced himself, as the explosion's force pushed him back. "Do any of these guys know when to give up?"

 

 

 

With guns stuffed in the back of the Esperanto, Marc and 8Ball got ready to strike at the Leones again.

 

"Somethin' don't feel right, man," 8Ball said. "Just being back here at the old yard. Like I just shouldn't be here anymore."

 

"If all goes right, Eight, you'll have it all back soon enough," Marc said back to him.

 

"Yeah. That'll be nice," 8Ball started to think about where he was basing himself. "But it'll be wierd, ya know?"

 

"I guess. What do you mean?" Marc lugged a box of grenades into the back seat.

 

"I got so used to the smaller space in Staunton. Having all this space to work in again, I dunno, it just seems like it's a shock to my system already."

 

"You've only been away a few months, man. Give it a little bit, and you'll be fine. But before we worry about that, we have some creeps to kill."

 

 

 

Misty put her shirt back on, and turned the music off.

 

"How was that?" She asked.

 

"Delicious, my friend. Hooker to stripper may not sound like much of a change, but remember, the men will only be looking now," Asuka answered.

 

"I still don't think Joey's gonna like this."

 

"Dear, I told you not to concern yourself with him."

 

Misty was about to respond, when an explosion shook the room. She knew she wouldn't need to continue with this little harpy, for her rescue had arrived.

 

 

 

8Ball crashed into a guard in the front of the shop. Marc followed, bashing the guard with a bat. He smashed the window on the front door, and 8Ball reached in and opened the door. He stepped in, and a bullet ricocheted from the wall next to him. Marc burst in and sprayed bullets from his Uzi. The few men in the garage were either dead or injured. Out of an office on one side came two brawny Italians, who were most likely out-of-town muscle. Marc tossed a grenade, which exploded next to a rusty Perennial, which in turn blew up a good portion of that part of the garage, including one of the brawny Italians. The other was knocked back, but unharmed. He got up and fired at Marc and 8Ball. They ducked under a piece of rubble. The brawny thug continued moving forward, shooting his gun.

 

"Let's double-team him," 8Ball whispered.

 

"That sounded incredibly gay, dude," Marc answered. They stared at each other for a second, then laughed.

 

"Man, this just ain't the time. Now come on."

 

The two jumped out from opposite sides of the rubble and shot at the thug, hitting him on both sides and killing him.

 

"Hey! Over here!" A woman called. The duo looked to the voice.

 

"The hell is that?" 8Ball asked.

 

"Misty, Joey's girl."

 

"Hey you two! You looking for Azuka?!" She paused, and looked over her shoulder. "Sorry. Asuka?"

Edited September 20, 2004 by bored

[bored]

new-post-udate-ification

 

 

 

 

 

Misty brought Asuka out of the body shop with Marc, while 8Ball looked on. Asuka was placed in 8Ball's car, and Misty turned to leave.

 

"You sure you want your little girlfriend to leave?" Marc jested.

 

"Oh lord yes," Asuka groaned. "A decent body, but the woman is insufferable."

 

 

 

With their leader back, the Yakuza were once again willing to join in against the Portland gangs. Shiro was off giving instructions to confused Yakuza, while Asuka sat in her office, with Marc, Tony, Tommy, and 8Ball. Phil had gone back to his ammo-yard.

 

"Tony, is there any progress on locating Maria?" She asked.

 

"None. We've combed all of Portland, and haven't found her or Joey Leone anyway."

 

"My boys got some stuff out of Forelli, but it was nothing useful," Tommy jumped in. "Couple of goons were hiding out at the docks. My crew wiped through most of 'em already, and the others are being interrogated now."

 

"Have we checked the other islands?" Marc asked, after sitting quietly in the back.

 

"If we had enough people," Asuka said.

 

"Girl, we've got almost ever gang in town, plus a couple of ringers here," 8Ball spoke up. "We can look."

 

"But it is always possible that they've left the city."

 

"Not likely," Tony said. "Joey doesn't trust most other cities enough to go to any of them. He does have a summer home in the middle of San Andreas, if we wanna check there."

 

"Now that is beyond us," 8Ball said.

 

"I can call up CJ and ask him for a favor," Tommy said.

 

"CJ?" Marc said it, though they all thought it.

 

"Carl Johnson, the kingpin over there."

 

"Yeah, yeah, we all know who he is, but you never mentioned knowing him."

 

"Vercetti knows everyone," Tommy chuckled.

[bored]

sorry that it's taken so long, but i've been busy. and, as always, feel free to comment on what you've read, especially since the plot has really gotten underway. i'm closing in on the end, or at least i anticipate that i am.

 

 

"While the police have no idea what has prompted recent gang violence that seems to be spanning two of Liberty's three islands, it does appear that the fighting will continue for some time. Sources within the LCPD say that this is the furthest stage of tensions between several smaller Liberty City gangs, and that some of the more prominent criminal organizations may be using it to their advantage," The anchorwomen chirped. For such a grim story, she was quite cheery.

 

 

 

The Vercetti Gang was keeping watch throughout Portland, while the Yakuza and the Yardies were sweeping through Staunton Island, looking for any signs of the Leones. Every now and then a stray Italian would be nabbed, or a Diablo or Triad would come out with some new little piece of information, but nothing they could ever learn was useful. Marc and 8Ball were going through Shoreside Vale, questioning everyone who knew anything about the crime world of the city. Everyone who might know something, they harassed, with the help of the Red Jacks. Nobody knew anything.

 

Marc was getting discouraged. He was getting increasingly violent when he didn't hear anything of interest from the various low-lifes in the city. He had just gotten finished bashing a contractor who often fixed houses for mob bosses and shady businessmen, when 8Ball brought up a point he had been dreading.

 

"Why haven't we heard from the Leones. They haven't given no offers to get Maria back, or any requests to have you handed over, or nothing. Dog, there's something not right."

 

Marc didn't speak. He kept his mouth shut, and didn't show any facial expression. It was just like him to clam up like this when he was thinking, which was often.

 

"You know what I mean here. Marc, I'm worried, and I know you are too. Y'all can't act like you haven't thought about this."

 

"No I can't. I know that, Eight, but you've gotta remember, Joey isn't the smartest mind there is. He knows how to send lots of goons out to shoot stuff, but he's not the best at planning. His strategist switched to our side, and he's hurting from it," Marc paused for a moment before speaking again. "Salvatore wouldn't have done it like this. He'd be taunting us, and trying to convince us that if we didn't do something immediately, we'd lose it all."

 

"I think that might be exactly what Joey's doin'. He's just trying to freak us out. Don't count the guy out just yet. Now come on, man. We said we'd meet up with D-Ice half an hour ago."

[bored]

aaaand, it's time to add again. enjoy:

 

 

 

 

Tommy Vercetti couldn't help but constantly look over his shoulder.

 

"Honey, I'll be alright. It's just a plane ride," Mercedes Cortez-Vercetti assured him. She was bandaged up, and one arm was put on a sling.

 

"Sorry, babe. I'm just on edge. I wanna help Fido and Asuka take down the Leones, but I always worry about making a mistake somewhere, getting myself killed. What happened to you doesn't help matters much."

 

"Tommy, you don't make mistakes. I'd know." Mercedes pulled her husband in towards her and they kissed. "I need to get to the terminal. Good-bye, dulce."

 

"Bye hot stuff," Tommy smirked. "Tell the kids I love 'em, and I'll be home soon as I can."

 

 

As soon as he could. Tommy could only hope for that. Ego had brought the cocky crime lord to this city, feeling that he was essential to taking down an entire Mafia family. He had brought his wife, as usual, and she had been badly hurt. How could he ever explain this to his children? Sorry, kids. Daddy wanted to flex his aging muscles and prove that his dick was still bigger than some greaseballs in Jersey, and Mommy got hurt because of it. He wanted to kick himself for it. For the Don of Vice City's biggest crime outfit, he sure was a moron. He would take care of this as quickly as he could. He'd keep his word to his kids.

 

 

 

Still going through his own personal crisis was Marc Horovitz, the thug once known as Fido to those who didn't respect him. The man who had once switched allegiances without even thinking of anything beyond the paycheck. That had finally snuck up on him and bitten him on the ass, as he had somewhat expected for a while. Now, he had to rescue the woman he loved. He would do anything he could to do this. He'd do all he knew best to do it. Kill, steal, beat, whatever was called for. The master criminal was taking charge, finally.

 

 

 

Vincent Goterelli was not a man who took any danger lightly. He was not a dangerous man, by most standards. He carried a gun, but barely knew how to shoot it. He was good at one thing: arguing. Goterelli was a succesful lawyer, and often represented the Leone family. He was often expensive, but for the family that employed his brother, Luigi, it was nothing. Now, he wasn't going to be in court, but he would be working for the Leones, in trying to negotiate Luigi Goterelli's release. If only he could work up the nerve to walk into the Kasen Casino and speak with Asuka Kasen, then hopefully it would all be over with.

 

 

"Who the hell is he?" 8Ball asked.

 

"Luigi's brother," Marc answered. The pair stood on the roof of the casino, where Marc was cleaning his sniper rifle. "He's a lawyer. Go talk to Asuka, tell her to have some of her guys nab him. I'm sure Joey sent him."

 

8Ball left for Asuka's office, and Marc finally let himself grin. This was what he had been waiting for. Not the bloody rampage that he would've savored, but it was real progress, guaranteed.

 

 

Goterelli knew he was being followed by Yakuza. It was obvious, but that didn't make it less unnerving. Soon they would sweep in and grab him, and hopefully take him to Asuka Kasen, and there would he make his offer.

Edited October 2, 2004 by bored

[bored]

Beaten and bloody, Maria sat down in the dark room she was constantly held in. The blindfold had finally come off, but she could hardly see in front of her. She had no clue at all where Joey Leone had taken her. What would Marc do? That was all she could think when trying to get out. How would he do it, since he always seemed to have a way out of a jam. The door swung open. Joey Leone, with that ever-disgusting look on his face that she recognized immediately.

 

"Hi Maria," he said, frighteningly excited. "How are ya?" Maria shrunk back. "Aw, come on. You weren't like this to my dad. Now come on, you, me and Misty are gonna have some fun."

 

He picked her up and dragged her away from the room. Eventually, they came to a bedroom, where Misty was waiting with a rope in her hand.

 

"Ready to play?" She chirped, whatever influence Asuka had had on her not showing at all. Maria closed her eyes, wishing that she would die or be rescued in the next few minutes.

 

 

 

Negotiations were not going well in Liberty City's Kasen Casino. Vincent Goterelli was almost as battered as Maria, and in less time.

 

"Where the living f*ck is Joey Leone?!" Marc screamed. "Where's Maria?! Your brother isn't seeing the light of day until we know!" He spun on his left foot, bringing his right up and around, and into Vincent's side. The chubby lawyer groaned, and fell to the ground, holding his chest.

 

"Where's my brother?" He gasped.

 

"Up your ass!" Marc growled. He picked Vincent up by his lapels, and brought their faces close together. "You've heard my offer. You tell me how to get Leone, and your brother is released. I don't see why you have such a hard time with that." He tossed him to the floor of the empty room, which was actually very close to where Luigi Goterelli was being held. As Marc prepared to hit Vincent again, Tony Cipriani and 8Ball entered.

 

"Cipriani!" Vincent squealed. "Oh, thank God you're here!"

 

"Hey, fatass," Tony smirked. He stood over Vincent, not looking like he was there to rescue him.

 

"Cipriani? What the hell? Help me here!"

 

"Help yourself."

 

Tony, Marc, and 8Ball surrounded Vincent.

 

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you where Leone is!"

 

 

An hour later, the trio was on a plane with scores of Yakuza and members of the Vercetti Gang (who, if this wasn't obvious, were much larger than just a gang). Their destination, San Fierro.

Edited October 6, 2004 by bored

[BmGod]

I want more please update !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

here's loadsa cookies to fill you up, now write !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bored]

There was a small armada of vehicles in San Fierro, San Andreas, that day. Everyone saw it, but no one did anything about it. It was known that Tommy Vercetti was one of the people in this caravan that would surely end it's path in a soon-to-be blood-bath. Those who had heard of Marc Horovitz didn't know he was among the many people on the way to the country mansion where Joey Leone hid.

 

 

 

In that same mansion, Maria had curled up in a corner of Joey's bedroom. He had untied her only after being sure that she couldn't bring herself to jump him, or anything like that. She was still crying, and Joey and Misty had just yelled at her and called her a few degrading things before leaving the room.

 

Marky, wherever you are, please come. Please come now. She thought to herself. I know you can save me. Now please do it.

 

 

 

Elsewhere, Marc was leaning against a car window. Like Maria, his thoughts wouldn't be let out, though it was more of a choice in his case. 8Ball and Tony could only look at the brooding, muscular thug and wonder how he felt at the moment. One thing they knew: when the oppurtunity came, he'd go into the Leone compound with guns blazing, likely killing any who stood in the way of his retrieving the woman he loved. Even now, he had a nine millimeter in his hands. If the safety wasn't on, he'd have probably shot something already. He wanted to kill mobsters, and he wanted to do it as soon as humanly possible. That was instinct working on him again. Something was going to happen to Joey Leone. Something bad. And if a single hair on Maria's head was hurt, all hell would break loose.

 

 

 

Two nines were stuffed into Marc's wasteband, on either side. Straps added to his jacket held a shotgun. Concealed in a clutch over his shirt and inside his jacket was an Uzi. And in his hands was an ashwood baseball bat.

 

For those who are not interested in the kind of wood this bat was made of, understand this: ashwood is one of the best commercially used woods on the market. Guitar necks are frequently made of it, and infamous instrument-smasher Pete Townshend even had trouble with ashwood guitars not breaking easily. A bat made of this material was ideal to someone like Marc Horovitz, who wasn't particularly interested in baseball.

 

"Hey Marc!" 8Ball caused. "Tony's mapping the plan out!"

 

Marc joined his friend in the center of the circle of cars formed by the gangsters only a few miles from their target.

Edited October 12, 2004 by bored

[bored]

Guess who was out of town this weekend, and therefor wasn't able to update? If you guessed 'bored', you win a prize. What prize, you ask? The next installment of 'KOLC'.

 

 

 

 

Snipers positioned as far from the Leone mansion in San Fierro as they could, while still being able to draw beams on targets outside. From far off, the sounds of helicopters were coming.

 

Straps attached to his jacket held a shotgun to Marc's back, while various belts and holsters held handguns and Uzis on his person. He clutched his favorite baseball bat, and his knuckles were whitening from the pressure put on them. 8Ball had similarly armed himself.

 

"You ready to kick some ass?" 8Ball asked.

 

"You know it," Marc responded, though he sounded like he was off somewhere else. It pleased 8Ball to see that his friend had really come out of his old shell, and this was as good a time as any for that.

 

 

 

The snipers began firing, and the siege was under way. Leone mobsters rushed inside. The Vercetti Gang members who were present charged, guns firing out the windows of the mansion. Marc and 8Ball followed, then overtook the Gang. Marc smashed in the front door with his bat, and the two led the small army of killers inside. Mobsters guarding the entrance shot at them, but they were shot down.

 

"3, 2, 1," 8Ball counted. "Boom."

 

There was an explosion on the other side of the house, and the Yakuza had an entrance of their own.

 

 

 

"Get the damn chopper ready!" Joey ordered.

 

"What about the floozy?" One of his underlings asked. Misty looked offended at this for a second.

 

"Maria? sh*t. Get her! I'm not losing my leverage!" Joey continued shouting.

 

"Hey boss?"

 

"What!"

 

"Some choppers're comin' in, and they don't look like ours."

 

"Hell. It's Vercetti." Joey called to one of his men with a large gun. "Blow that thing outta the air!"

 

 

Bullets flew around them. Marc and 8Ball were crouched behind an overturned couch. They took turns sticking their heads out to fire at their enemies. Marc's phone wrang.

 

"If this is a telemarketer, go f*ck yourself!" He yelled over the gunfire.

 

"Horovitz, it's me," the voice of Tony Cipriani said. "Tommy says Leone's on the roof, trying to get on a helicopter. Thinks he might have Maria with him."

 

"Thanks, Tony. I'm on my way." He took out his shotgun, blew the head off a remaining Leone underling, and raced for the stairs. 8Ball followed, still clutching a .45.

[bored]

"Marc, do have any idea exactly how to get to the roof?" 8Ball asked.

 

"No, but hey, how often am I wrong?"

 

The two continued to push upstairs, firing at the occasional Leone goon. There were a few people to deal with, but, admittedly, the Leone syndicate's forces had been thinned almost to their limit in the last few weeks.

 

"That door!" 8Ball shouted. "Check it out!"

 

The duo approached a door at the top of the stairs. Bullets flew around them. 8Ball turned to fire at the gunman. He squeezed off a few rounds, and cut the attacker down. He went back to heading to the door, but another gunman emerged at the foot of the stairs, and shot at them. 8Ball was turning around to fire again, when a bullet caught him in the arm. He shouted, and Marc spun around, holding out his handgun. He fired, and caught the second gunman in the neck. He lifted 8Ball off the floor, and tried to send him down.

 

"Go on!" 8Ball ordered. "I still got your back, man! Go!"

 

Marc ran on, and shot the lock off the door. He burst through, and into the sunlight. It was the roof, but it was far from the helipad where he would find Joey Leone. Up here, there were surely many more enemies, and his allies were all behind him. How many times had he found himself in this position? It was him alone again. And these weren't poorly trained Columbians. These were the most powerful Mafia organization in Liberty City. And Marc knew what that meant: this would be much more fun.

 

He put the handgun back into it's holster, and retrieved one of his Uzis. It still had about a quarter of a clip- much of the work getting through here had been done by the Vercetti Gang and Yakuza- and he had another to use once it was out. He moved to a small staircase, crouching as he went up. He peaked over the top of it, and could see a man standing guard a few feet away. He snuck up and clamped his hand over the guard's mouth, then snapped his neck with a quick jerk of his arm. With this one out of the way, he snuck on, seeing more guards.

 

"Hey!" One of them called. Marc groaned and raised his gun. He fired, but missed by a few inches the one who had spotted him. Others approached. Marc fired and hit one, then rolled to dodge another's shot. He was now aware that he was on an open surface. There was nowhere to hide, and he was practically surrounded. He fired again at the first to notice him, and this time succesfully killed him.

 

 

 

"He's here!" Joey screamed. "Goddammit, take care of him!"

 

Marc, hurry, Maria thought. Hurry, baby, please!

 

 

 

On another part of the sprawling roof, Marc couldn't necessarily hear his lover's thoughts, but he could feel the urgency. She's close, he thought, as he picked off attackers. All thought's of what he'd do to Leone were pushed aside at the thought of being reunited with Maria. He shot madly at the members of the Leone syndicate before many could even get near the triggers of their guns. Eventually, he ran out of ammo in the first Uzi and tossed it into the air. It spun in a high arc, and landed out of view, though it didn't hit a Leone, like Marc had hoped. He pulled the other one, and charged to the next level of the roof, where two were waiting for him. One shot, and the bullet grazed his thigh. Marc stumbled, winced, and shot madly. The recoil from shooting with only one hand (the other was clutching his injury) sent his arm flying, and he lost his grip on the gun, though had left a sizeable trail of bullets in the gunman. The other saw his oppurtunity, and aimed his gun at Marc.

 

The sounds of helicopters were getting louder all this time. Now, two were directly above the roof, and were taking fire, but one was still able to strafe the man who was ready to kill Marc. He shielded his eyes from the sun and looked up. Tommy Vercetti was at the gun, and waving. He pointed to the southern part of the roof.

 

"Maria," Marc said under his breath. He pressed on, becoming slowly oblivious to the wound he had taken. It wasn't deep, and hadn't hit anything important. He clutched a handgun and sprinted (as much as it hurt at first) to what he knew would be the final confrontation with his nemesis.

[bored]

we move closer to the finale! or do we? of course we do.

 

 

 

 

 

His heart beat hard in his chest, as Marc scrambled to raise his gun and fire at one of Leone's men. The numbers were severely thinned, but he could take them lightly. Vercetti's helicopter was circling the mansion, far enough to not be shot at now, but close enough to prevent an escape in the air. He leaped over another risen portion of the many-sectioned roof. Finally, the heli-pad was in view. The helicopter wasn't even ready to take off yet. And there was Misty, Joey's little whore. Joey Leone himself was in view as well, and by his feet....

 

"You son of a whore, what have you been doing to her?" Marc growled, quietly enough that no one could hear him. Maria was on the ground, sitting upright, but looking extremely battered. He clutched the handle of his gun tightly. It was time to strike. He sprung up and fired at the remaining few guards. They shot back, but he had a spot to hide, and he used it. After a few times getting up to shoot, the guards were gone.

 

"Okay hot shot! You want me, come get me!" Joey shouted.

 

"Wow, I always knew you were like that!" Marc shouted back. He got up, and walked slowly toward his enemy. "To business, you're surrounded, Joe. Give me Maria, and you can go!"

 

"Kiss my ass! Misty, hold her!" Joey snapped. Misty pulled a gun and held it to Maria's head. "Come closer, and Misty blows her head off!"

 

Marc stayed where he was. He didn't come this far just to get foiled by a whore with a magnum.

 

"Let her go, Joey!" He called. "Maria's not part of this."

 

"Oh, like hell!" Joey snapped. "She's the reason this all happened, and you know it!" This was, of course, true. She was why he'd killed Joey's father, after all.

 

"Joe, listen to me: If you let her go, you can take me instead!"

 

Misty was saying something to Joey, but Marc couldn't tell what.

 

"Marc!" It was Maria. Marc froze, and listened intently, ecstatic to hear her voice. "You don't need to do this!"

 

"Maria, it's ok." Marc yelled back. "I know what I'm doing."

 

There was a pause, and someone was walking forward. It was Maria, with Misty still pointing the gun at her.

 

"Put your weapons down, and she goes." Joey said. Marc took out all of the guns he'd brought, as well as a switch-blade, and put them on the ground. He raised his hands, and approached.

 

"Baby, you don't need to do this for me," Maria insisted. "It's enough that you came, but this is more than you're made for."

 

"I'll be alright, beautiful." Marc continued to Joey. Misty still had her gun to Maria's head. As Marc approached him, his nemesis grinned.

 

"You gullible little sh*t head!" He laughed. "Misty!" There was a gunshot behind them, and Maria was screaming. Then there was another gunshot, and Marc closed his eyes, not bothering to look behind him.

Edited October 28, 2004 by bored

[bored]

Joey gaped. Marc didn't want to see how obviously severe the killing wound to Maria had looked.

 

"Misty! Oh sh*t, Misty!" Joey shouted. Marc turned. Maria was still standing, mostly on one leg. Misty was laying on the ground, blood pouring from her. Maria was covering her mouth, and, a few yards away, 8Ball still had his gun leveled. Joey clenched his fists. "I'm gonna f*cking kill you, you pyromaniac piece of sh*t!"

 

"Good timing, Eight!" Marc yelled.

 

"What'd you think?" 8Ball responded. "That I was actually gonna let you go alone?"

 

Joey charged at Marc, who sidestepped and tripped him.

 

"You're gonna f*cking get it for this!" Joey growled. "Help!" Two mobsters came running. "Boys, we got a great trio for you here! A kike, a whore, and a ni**er all for you!"

 

"What the living f*ck did that greasy f*cker just say!" 8Ball roared. "I did not just here him call me that!" He shot one of the last of Joey's men dead, and threw his gun in the others direction The mobster moved out of the way, and tried to shoot at 8Ball. Marc grabbed the shotgun hanging from his back, and fired with one barrel at the mobster's chest.

 

"Joe, I don't care what you say about me," He said. "I'm about to kill you anyway, so what does it matter? But, you see, my friend doesn't take well to derogatory terms like what you said. And I don't like people pissing off my friends. And calling my girl a whore, now that is a big no-no. Joe, you've pissed me off a lot lately, and I am not putting up with it any longer. Hey Maria! 8Ball!" 8Ball came to him, helping Maria along. "Guys, say good-bye to Don Joseph Leone!"

 

"Marc, wait," Maria said.

 

"What is it?" Marc asked. Maria leaned over, and spat on Joey. "That it?" She nodded. "8Ball?" 8Ball grinned, and kicked Joey in the gut.

 

"Teach you to keep your greasy mouth shut, bitch. Okay dog, you do what you need."

 

And Marc did so. And what he needed involved pulling the triggers for both barrels on his shotgun, pointed to Joey Leone's face.

[tonymcf]

Brilliant. A tremendous story. It's a pity someone from Hollywood ain't reading this because they need writers and bad. I can actually picture this whole thing. Man, your story rocks.

[bored]

i'm glad this is getting such a positive response. when i first started, alot of people seemed skeptical (understandable, though). though there's a bit left to go, i should mention. one more twist i may or may not get to in this installment, but it'll resolve everything well. and i like the comment that this could be a movie. here's something for you as i near the conclusion of 'el rey de ciudad libertidad' (shout out to any hispanic readers): how would you cast a film of it? since most of the characters (marc/'fido', maria, asuka, tony, 8ball, joey, luigi, misty, donald love, phil, tommy, mercedes) are from the games, i'm guessing you've thought about many of them, but there are also a couple of newbies (vincent, shiro) to consider. anywho, read on, loyal fans of this bored teenager's imagination.

 

 

 

 

A chopper landed near them. 8Ball gripped his gun, but put it down when he saw Tommy Vercetti at the door. Vercetti hopped out, with Tony Cipriani following.

 

"That Joey?" Tony asked, though he already knew the answer.

 

"Was Joey," Marc muttered. He stared at the body of the man he'd been preparing to kill for so long. Joey was dead. What was left for him? There was obviously Maria. He had finally rescued his love, slaughtering dozens and getting most of his friends in danger to do so. He looked up at her, and she looked at him. He set his gun down, and approached her, his arms open. They embraced, and Marc remembered why he'd gone through so much. He had never loved a woman like this, and he was glad that he'd done all he'd done. Maria leaned in on him, shifting weight off of her injured knee.

 

"I knew you'd save me," she whispered. "I knew it. Marc, I love you."

 

"I love you too, Maria," he said back to her. "Don't ever think otherwise."

 

"Hey lovebirds!" Tony shouted. "Come on!"

 

"Oh give 'em a minute," Tommy snapped. "I think they deserve it." And they certainly did.

 

 

 

A few hours later, the bloody mess that was the Leone compound was left behind in San Andreas. The Clan Kasen Yakuza and Vercetti Gang were loaded up on helicopters and an airplane, a luxury jet belonging to Tommy Vercetti. He had invited Marc and the others to visit his own mansion in Vice City for a bit. Mercedes had wanted to see them all after this ordeal was over.

 

For now, they were on the plane, having some long overdue quiet time. Tommy, 8Ball, Tony, and Asuka played cards, and Marc and Maria rested in each other's arms by a window. Maria was breath-taken by the view from the plane, having not been on a plane where she hadn't been bound and gagged for a long time. The couple was ready for some peace and quiet, and a stop in Vice seemed like a good place to do so.

 

 

 

Hours later, with the Yakuza members returning to Liberty City, Tommy led the group to his sprawling mansion, which put even the house Marc and Maria had in Shoreside Vale to shame. This city, which still crawled with crime, was nothing like Liberty. It had retained most of the vibrant color and enthusiasm that it had displayed when Tommy Vercetti had spent the 1980s rising to the top of it's underworld. Now, almost all major gangs in the city answered, eventually, to him and his aptly named Vercetti Gang. A caravan of fancy cars entered into the Vercetti's compound.

 

"Something looks wrong," Tommy said to the people with him. "Who are all those people? They're not mine." And indeed, the many armed men coating the front of the mansion were not of the Vercetti Gang. They weren't even native to Vice City. Someone here had come along way to take on Tommy Vercetti. But Marc Horovitz was here as well, and he wasn't in the mood for this sh*t.

[bored]

"Vercetti!" Asuka snapped. "Who the hell are these people?"

 

"No clue," Tommy responded. "They don't look like anyone in Vice, not even the Forellis. Graham!" His driver poked his head out of the window of Tommy's limo. "Get on the phone and make sure my family's ok! Marc, there're some guns in the trunk. Grab something and let's get to work."

 

 

Earlier, Marc Horovitz had taken the lead in the assault on the Leone complex, while Tommy Vercetti had simple been riding in a helicopter. Now, after learning that his family was not at home when this new group had invaded and were therefore safe, Tommy was in charge. He ordered Graham, his chauffer when he didn't feel like taking the wheel himself, contact the entire Vercetti Gang, which actually consisted of hundreds of assorted gangsters around Vice City, and order them to his home. He loaded himself with guns just the way Marc had earlier in San Fierro, and slipped away from his guests from Liberty City, going to a back entrance.

 

In front, Marc, 8Ball, and Tony had been given sniper rifles. They were ordered to fire on the gunmen on the many front balconies, while members of the Vercetti Gang had already begun firing on some of the intruders.

 

Tony took aim first. He sqeezed off a shot that hit one of the intruders in the neck. Marc fired at another, getting them in the heart, and 8Ball did the same to their companion. After a few shots, they knew that the only way to continue this battle was to go in and fight closer up. Tony ordered Asuka's Yakuza guards not to leave her side, and the three, each still heavily armed with guns mostly borrowed from Tommy, joined the Vercetti Gang on the attack.

 

 

In the back, a disappointed Tommy Vercetti experienced little opposition. Whoever had planned this had put most of their focus on the front, leaving only a few people in the back of the house, and they were no problem for the still-vicious owner of that house. Tommy only wished that blood didn't stain so much. Mercedes would kill him for that, and the dry-cleaning prices would be phenomenal. As he thought this, he ducked behind the wet bar near the back door to his pool, as a man with an AK-47, more powerful than anything Tommy had on him, appeared. Unfortunately, Tommy was heard, and the gunman opened fire, destroying several expensive items above his head. Tommy rolled out from the bar before the gunman with the AK could aim down at the bar itself, and shot him in the head with his always trusty Desert Eagle handgun. He pressed on, taking the AK-47, and went up the stairs, where the attacker had come from.

 

 

"Can Tommy handle himself alone?" Marc asked one of the Vercetti Gang members.

 

"Heh, kid, just 'cause he's gettin' old doesn't mean he's lost anything. I wouldn't worry 'bout Tommy. That man's a God when he's gotta pop heads."

 

Marc kept this in mind, as he realised that no more of the intruders had come to fight. The number of men on each side was even, but the Gang were better at this sort of conflict, and they had the unstoppable Marc Horovitz with them.

 

 

Only one guard was in Tommy's way up on the way to his office, where he hoped to find more of his better guns. That one had taken a shot and missed, shattering a vase that Mercedes had been bugging Tommy to get rid of anyway. He'd been shot in the middle of his face. Tommy reached his office, opened, and shot a stare at the man sitting at his desk.

 

"You? What the hell are you doing here?!"

 

 

"Asuka, I'm worried," Maria said. "I haven't heard shooting in a few minutes, and I can't see anything."

 

"If the gunfire is over, my handyman and you boyfriend has taken care of the problem," Asuka responded, confidentally.

 

 

Marc and 8Ball led everyone with them up the stairs, after a sweep of the ground floor by the Gang had proven fruitless other than some destruction and a body in a massive living room in the back. Marc had said that that meant that Tommy was doing well.

[bored]

"Hey Marc, I just thought of something," 8Ball said. "Why is it that whenever we raid a mansion, we always go upstairs?"

 

"Good point, but Eight, how often do we raid mansions?" Marc asked.

 

"Point taken."

 

The pair continued up, where they'd heard voices, one of which sounded like Tommy. As they saw the open door with Tommy's back to them, they could hear the other voice speaking to him.

 

"Marc, is that-?"

 

"It can't be," Marc said. "He's dead."

 

People in the room sounded like they'd noticed them. A commanding voice ordered them allowed in. The two, still clutching guns, entered. It was exactly who they thought it was.

 

"Hello Donald," Marc sneered. "Hey, weren't you dead?

 

"Mr. Horovitz, we've had our differences, but you have no right to speak like that to me," the very not-dead Donald Love said. "It is thanks to you that my building was destroyed. The Leones were trying to get to me for taking your friends-"

 

"-And that is my fault how?"

 

"You set it all in motion. And you couldn't even cooperate with me. And while I wasn't in the building when it was destroyed, most of my life was. Not to mention my secretary, Sarah, who I was sleeping with!"

 

 

 

Outside, Asuka and Maria listened intently for gunfire, not paying attention to the car a block away, which had three armed men step out of it. They all quickly found places to hide as they advanced on the two.

[bored]

Asuka's Yakuza bodyguards looked anxious, upset over not being able to join the action inside. Maria had a clear look of worry on her face, still wondering what Marc was doing.

 

 

 

Marc was tired of this bullsh*t. He had just gone through an entire Mafia family to rescue the woman he loved and have some time for himself. This idiot Love was messing everything up for him. He looked at 8Ball and Tommy.

 

"Care to speak your mind?" Donald Love asked.

 

"One thing," Marc asnwered, as he reached for his handgun. "Piss off." He shot one of the men Love had hired, and soon 8Ball and Tommy had followed suit. Love's other hired guns reached for their weapons, while Love himself ducked under his desk. The firefight was brief, as none of the people Love was paying for this job were as talented as the three men they were trying to kill. In moments, the ones who had survived were badly injured, and all the trio had suffered was less ammo. Love popped back up from his desk.

 

"Now what was all this about? Those men were only here for the pay," he said, back in his calm monotone.

 

"Why are you here?" Tommy snapped. "Why are you in my home? If you wanted Fido, you could've just grabbed him in Liberty. You should've known my people could take yours."

 

"While I'm sorry that I had to involve an, achem, honest business-man such as yourself in this, but I wanted it done as humiliatingly for him as possible. Obviously, there was a bit of a flaw in this idea, but you must admit, it made for an interesting fight."

 

"Love, you just aren't the brightest, are you?" Marc taunted. "Now get up, and go to the window." He pointed his gun at Love, and then pointed it to the veranda. Love complied.

 

"What is the point of this?" Love asked.

 

"Like I said," Marc sneered, "you're just not the brightest. In fact, a baby with downs-syndrome could see this. I'm kinda sad someone like you gives me so much trouble." He pulled the trigger of his gun. Love's body buckled, fell, and landed on the railing.

 

"Did he serioudly not know you were gonna shoot him?" 8Ball asked.

 

"I really think so," Marc answered.

 

"He was inept when he started out," Tommy said, "but I had sort of thought he had an IQ of over 6. Well, enough of this, let's go find the girls."

 

 

 

As this bizarre drama unfolded inside, the last three mercenaries Donald Love had hired were upon Asuka and Maria, having killed one of the Yakuza immediately, and were going after the second at that moment. He shot at one of them, and hit him in the neck. The other two both shot him, and continued to Asuka and Maria. Neither of the two women was exactly in the kind of shape to fight these men off alone. In seconds, the two men were on them, ready to take them away.

 

"Boys, what is this all about?" Asuka said, taking on her devilish grin that was seen when she was formulating a clever plan. But this was not exactly brilliant strategy, this was more like boosting herself out of her chair with her strong arms and grabbing one around the neck.

 

"Holy sh*t!" He yelled. "Get off of me, freak!"

 

Asuka held on, squeezing tight on his neck, crushing his windpipe. The other killer watched, astounded, knowing trying to shoot her would only hurt his associate. He instead focused his attention on Maria, who cowered back towards a car, limping from her shot knee and not the type to pounce like Asuka. He grabbed her by the shoulders, and tossed her to the ground, then kicked her in the stomach. Asuka had finished off the other man, and was pulling herself to this last one, to help her friend. He spun, and shot at one of Asuka's feet.

 

"If that mattered, I'd have been walking!" She growled, though she could still feel the pain. He aimed his gun again, this time to finish her, but the next shot wrang out came from several feet away, and the last killer was the one shot.

 

"Tony!" Maria called. Tony Cipriani hurried to her, lifting her up and setting her into the limousine they'd arrived in. He did the same with Asuka next.

 

"Good hands, Italian," Asuka said flirtily, even through the pain.

 

"Yours ain't nothing to scoff at, Japanese," Tony said back. "Now we're just holding still 'til the others get back."

[bored]

Lightning flashed across the night sky in Liberty City, New Jersey. The rain beat down on a city changed forever. The news ran nonstop coverage of the death of prominent businessman Donald Love, who was based out of Liberty, and his apparent ties to organized crime. That, and the massacre in San Fierro, which involved the Leone Mafia family and it's Don, Joseph Leone, who was apparently killed in the fighting. What this all meant for Libert City was under much speculation. Love's death opened a huge vacuum in his company, which would lead to bitter rivalries inside of that for control of his estate. The death of Joey Leone meant that there was no one left to lead the Leone Family, not there were many people left in it to matter.

 

Wheels skidded across the Callahan bridge on this night. A blue Kuruma sped by all the cars that were moving slowly so that they didn't have an accident on the bridge on this wet night. While people were in their homes, stunned to learn of the death of Donald Love, two thugs were destroying the Leone legacy in Liberty. The Sex Club 7 was destroyed first. An unfortunate run-in with a renegade tank had done a bit of damage to it already, and a massive bomb by 8Ball had finished the job. Luigi Goterelli had agreed to relocate to Vice City, where he would work for Tommy Vercetti, and keep out of trouble. Less than an hour after the Club had gone up in flames, Marc Horovitz and 8Ball had gone to the Leone mansion, planting more bombs. Maria herself had watched over this one, telling them the exact places she wanted explosives planted, so that all the places that had given her the most painful memories of being Salvatore Leone's mistress could be destroyed first. It was she who tossed the Molotov cocktail into the basement window that triggered the first bomb, which consisted merely of a few sticks of dynamite (something that 8Ball felt disappointed by), and started the blaze. She had never taken part in any of Marc's criminal activity before, but this was something she had insisted upon.

 

Now across the bridge and back on Staunton Island, the comfortable place where the gangs weren't all trying to kill them, the trio arrived at 8Ball's apartment, where they sat around a table, not talking.

 

"So what now?" Marc asked, after a few minutes of silence, that was only occasionally broken by rain or someone drinking coffee.

 

"What do you mean, babe?" Maria asked.

 

"Think about it," he said. "Pretty much everything we ever do is against a couple of gangs. We've all based our lives the last year around keeping safe from the Leones, and all the other gangs on Portland. It's pretty much taboo for us to be back there for more than an hour, but that isn't the case anymore. The Diablos and the Triads and terrified of me, and the Leone family is over. And I don't even know what the Forellis are up to. 8Ball, you and me make our livings on crime, on striking at groups we don't like. Well, those groups are pretty much gone. I mean, I bet some new ones will try and replace them, but it'll never be the same. And Maria, you don't always have to worry about some mobster dragging you into a car and taking you away anymore. This was big, what just happened to us all."

 

"You're right, dog," 8Ball said. "You're always right, ya know that?" Marc grinned and made a well, I suppose gesture. "Man, I ain't just gonna go and leave Liberty cuz of this, but you gotta point. Damn."

 

"What'd I tell ya?" Marc responded.

 

"Is that really so bad?" Maria asked. "Less to worry about. We're safer now, right?"

 

"Maybe," Marc said. "But you've gotta think, we've got less people we know of when we need to know who's giving us trouble, which people always will. You get what I'm saying?"

 

"Yeah," 8Ball answered. "Less of a face to put problems to. It makes sense."

 

"You're not leaving Liberty then, are you, Marc?" Maria asked, with a concern in her voice that sounded like she expected him to go alone.

 

"No," Marc said. "I can't. This is my town." He smiled, and finished his drink.

 

 

 

An hour later, Maria was at home, watching tv, curled up on the couch. Marc sat in an armchair, looking out the window at the typically rainy sky. The phone wrang, and he picked it up.

 

"Horovitz?" A familiar Jamaican voice asked.

 

"Hey, Courtney," Marc said. "What's goin' on?"

 

"'Ey man, da boys say dat you are duh one who put Leone and Love on ice, both in two days. Dat true?"

 

"Yeah," Marc responded, trying not to gloat. "That it?"

 

"Dat alot to be proud of, white boy," King Courtney said, almost snapping. "I don't know if you tired or nothing right now, but we got a job for you. Nothin' big, but this ain't nothin' we want da Yardies openly attached to."

 

"Go on," Marc said, looking at Maria.

 

"Dere be these little punks at da University, they been givin' us a bad name." Courtney was now clearly angry. "Been wearin' dreads and tryin' to look Rasta, then sayin' that they Yardies, and making sh*t rough for us. You go an' take care of them, make it look like an outside hit from someone who just got pissed off, and leave da bodies a block from my place. Dere be a hefty reward for this. Oh yeah, and so you don't get confused, da punks givin' us trouble be white boys. College stonuh morons."

 

"Heh, I'll do it. Gimme a few hours."

 

 

Soon, Marc was clutching his Uzi and stepping into his blue Kuruma. The wheels skidded as he pulled out onto the street, as they did most nights. In the future, new gangs would rise, and there would always be trouble and work for Marc Horovitz and his friends. The man who was once called 'Fido' in jest by the woman who now loved him was already well known, but now he was cemented as a legend. In the future, people would try to challenge that, and he and his friends, those who stayed loyal at least, would do away with them. And his name would be legendary in the world of crime for years to come. But for tonight, he was Marc, the stone-faced killer who was taking care of a pest problem for a well-paying gang. Thunder crashed loudly as he emerged from the car, gun in hand, approaching his latest targets.

 

"Hi there!" He called, with a devilish grin on his face. The white boys trying to look black faced him. One yelled before the others saw what was happening. Marc raised his gun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE END

 

Thank you for reading.

Edited November 16, 2004 by bored

[bored]

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