Build Up Your Gang : A New Era

[deadlash]

I just want to say I'll be posting a story on the weekend and haven't yet lost interest in this. So keep it alive for me please

[GeneralBBQ]

The Don's Revenge

Headquarters

 

Over the next week my Ristorante turned into the command center for what was to become teh largest gang war the U.S. has ever seen. The kitchen and storage were transfromed into an armory. The loading dock was now being filled with ammo and weapons that was being delivered daily by Leone trucks. Teh parking lot was barracaded and blocked off by three Mafia Sentinels. The front door was garuded 24/7 by four soldiers who changed shifts every 12 hours, they were armed with M4's. The inside seating area now had five laptops each used for different purposes, i.e troop deployment, accounting, and target tracking and locations. Big maps of Liberty City, Vice City, and San Andreas were hung up on the wall with pins pinpointing different targets and locations. The idea was not only to destory CJ (not kill, Destroy!!!), but his family and friends, too. So now that the Ristorante was the HQ, Sal and his soldiers were congregating in the sitting area. The Don's top General and right-hand man Claud were sitting in front of the room whne the Don announced that Claud was in need of an assitant. So I rose my hand to take the postion, and he accepted, because of my experience in the Family I knew what the Don was thinking and would be a great help for the whole operation. After my promotion the Don announced that Claud and I were in charge of the entire operation and if there were any problems the soldiers were asked to come to us for the answer. The Don then retired into his limo and went to the Mansion. Now all we needed was a PLAN......

TO BE CONTINUED

[DarkGTA]

I'll take Balla's, B-Dups Place.

[ThugLife™]

I still haven't started writing any type of follow up to my story. My interest seemed to have dissapeared from this game, and although I wanna continue writing, at the moment I'm finding it hard to come up with ideas. Hopefully I'll be able to get a story up by the weekend.

[Lochie_old]

The Meeting

 

I was early,it was the first meeting of the Project. I sat down waiting for more members to pull up to the meeting point. With The Cartel giving us no more trouble, we had decided to take the Gardens finally. Another car pulled up. A Rumpo with some sick tags on it, It was Req Waqz. I had never taken a liking to Req, Acctaully he had accused me of working with the Reds,but I never had,and finally proved when I busted up some of them. 2 more cars pulled up, but I heard Req whisper to one of the drivers, "I'll have the documents after the meeting" he glanced around looking nervous, Something was happening. Finally they all arrived,we walked inside and started talking. "Yo man, the plan is that we gonna take the gardens when that punk-ass bitch Jackz comes in,hes been working round with The Balla's or some sh*t in San Andreas,he should be back in bout 10 hours. we gonna need to get to the airport quick, Jey your the fastest driver in Liberty City" said Big Boz, the plan-maker, "Yo,you know I am,5 generations of taxi drivers" he replied. Big Boz started talking again, "Alright, Phused your the best shot here,you think you can handle this sh*t?" he passed me a PSG-100, "This is the sh*t Tommy V used man,I think I crank it up abit" I said,I grabbed the sniper and started inspecting it, I looked in the barrel and saw a note " Your a dead bitch" it said. I glanced around and noticed Req flicking through the documents,then he stared at me, it was an ice cold stare, I knew it was him. "Drop the f*cking documents punk ass Red Bitch!" I yelled, I pulled out my Spaz and point it at him, "Hes f*cking working with the Reds Boz" Boz stared at me, his face looked like he had figured it out. "I knew that along time ago, he was trying to get on the plane with Jacks, never worked did it Reqqy?" Req was stunned he tried to answer,but all came out was a squeak, I pumped the spaz and finished him. "Aww sh*t,I got blood on me" said Klo, he was helping me dump the body in the ocean, "When this project finished Im going to Vice, Boz said we all gonna have like half a million each,what are you gonna do?" I replied "Im gonna go to San Andreas,meet a cousin of mine and live life with the Grove Street" Klo smiled, "Well we better get to the airport" Just then Jey beeped the horn, "Jump in nigga's, we rolling"

 

Thats all,hope you like it.

~P

[9jkearse3]

GeneralBBQ-$20 watch out Grove street

 

DarkGTA-Added, my old slot

 

~PhusioN~-$12 try not to use guns you don’t own

 

SloStenRacing-$27...your other stories where better hence the low money

 

well it looks like wet blanket got banned...again 'ill remove him soon

Edited March 10, 2005 by 9jkearse3

[SloStenRacing]

Deleted

Edited March 23, 2005 by SloStenRacing

[GeneralBBQ]

Hey Kearse can u please put me in as the owner of Ciprani's Ristorante as I am still not updated in the list. Thanx.

[SloStenRacing]

This ones gone too

Edited March 23, 2005 by SloStenRacing

[Lochie_old]

Sorry bout that,I didn't know bout the weapon rule lol! Alright heres more:

 

No Sniper

 

We were driving on the highway, suddenly sirens came on, "Aww sh*t, its Mcgrady!" Said Jey, Mcgrady was a crook cop, rumors say he was the one who supplied the gangs with drugs, but they were all denied in a big court case back in 99'. "Boys,breaking the speed limit I see,Oh whats this? A PSG-100, sh*t you guys must be breaking about 29 laws right now, I'll tell you what, you hand me that nasty old sniper rifle and I'll let you guys go" he said in a really bad attempt at making us afraid, I stared at Boz, he nodded. I thought he was crazy,we couldn't get Jackz now. "Fine,here you guy Mcgrady" I said sarcasticly "Alright boys I'll see you later!".

 

"Are you crazy Boz? How can we get him now?" I screamed, Boz replied in a nice calm voice, "Jey pull up over there,Klo you watch and Phused, round the back with me". We got out of the car and I walked over the trunk, Boz opened it "sh*t! An AK-47, only one I've seen is when my cuz Ryder got one off old Emmet when we was shooting cans in San Andreas" Boz smiled, "Theres 2, and also 2 MP5s we using them to take out Jackz. Alright everyone back into the car!" the car grunted back into life as we started moving again.

 

"Alright we here" said Klo, a van was waiting for Jackz to arrive, it was really bad guarded, "Alright, Phused come with me, Klo and Jey, go round the right and take down the driver, try not to get blood on the clothes, we'll need em!"

[9jkearse3]

GeneralBBQ added…sorry I didn’t notice

 

SloStenRacing-$38 what no MC dickhead lol…. I liked “Half Dollar” though

 

~PhusioN~-$10

 

[GeneralBBQ]

Thanks Kearse

 

Ill have a new story up this weekend.

[9jkearse3]

i was wondering do you guys think i should request for this to be moved to the general writers forum...ive been over there a couple of times and noticed it isnt exactly active but it will get noticed by other people and wont be trampled down by all the topics that get psoted around here. anways that was just a question i wanted to ask you guys im not gonna do it if you guys think i shouldnt

[The Professor]

It's more appropriate to have it over there. Maybe we can just have advertisements on this board, re-directing people there.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------

 

It is four-fifty five in the morning and all of Vice City is settling into a cocoon of sin. The worker-bees are awakening to the sound of their alarm clocks; the criminals are just now turning to bed, as the sun is about to rise. The sky has transformed to a pink and purple haze of light, setting just over the massive bridges the city.

 

And, in the midst of this, El Burro and his fifteen men assemble on a factory in Vice Port. The drug-kingpin himself organized the delivery of fifteen thousand in Cocaine via a shipping-truck. It was purple and rusted to the steel. But it’d do for this type of delivery. A .45 automatic in hand, he got in a Hydra and told his driver to head for the dock.

 

The truck exited the warehouse, flanked by three Hermies and the Hydra in tow. El Burro settled back in the passenger-seat and smoked a fat Cuban cigar in the glory of the moment. He was about to blow away the Columbian Cartel in one full swoop. The elimination of Gary Pittman in a few days meant that he could seize control by himself, thus doubling his profits ten-fold.

 

A wise man, El Burro didn’t trust his new ‘partner’ one inch. So he had all of his men pack Uzi’s in their cars, whilst he himself cradled a shotgun in his lap. He watched the musty working district void of anyone. His three killers’ at the entrance guaranteed that. If anyone fought to get in, his Lieutenant, a thin man of small stature would use the silenced 9mm he gave him.

 

The cars rattled to a stop on the flattop of the dock. El Burro got out first, and trudged along in front of the truck to make a stand for the delivery chopper. He flicked the cigar to the water and racked the shotgun, pulling it behind his back to hide from the overhead eyes. For three minutes they stood there. Making the occasional smirk to one-another until the droning sound filled the sky.

 

Coming in from the North was a blue dot. This soon molded into a chopper, buzzing closer to the ledge of the dock before stopping a few feet above it. Wind whirled through the convoy of men standing there. El Burro’s hat flew off his head and surged out toward sea. But he didn’t even blink. His eyes, hidden by sunglasses, watching the cockpit of the chopper.

 

Sitting in between two men was Catalina—the worthless whore who bit part of his penis off a year ago. She was all dolled up, in a mini-skirt and silk shirt. On the other side of her was Miguel dressed in a plum Armani suit and on the other-side was a pilot with a gun holster over his shoulder. The pilot had a squat face, but what appeared to be a strong body.

 

The helicopter landed several feet in front of them and slowly ceased moving. The doors opened a half-inch before all of El Burro’s men charged the chopper, forcing them to raise their hands and pulling all three from the cockpit. The men and Catalina were forced against the side of the chopper and patted down for guns.

 

Miguel whined, ‘Burro! This is a violation of my rights.’

 

‘Rights mean nothing here.’

 

The pilot was removed of his pistol, which was tossed to the Ocean. But as Catalina and Miguel walked toward El Burro, the pilot was held back by his arms and shoved toward the ledge of the dock. There, he looked behind him at the fifteen-some drop to the water.

 

‘El Burro,’ Miguel said, holding Catalina’s head back by her hair, ‘this is the woman who you despise.’ A big grin appeared on his face.

 

El Burro stared through two slits that were his eyes. ‘Catalina. What were the last words you said to me?’

 

Catalina spat in his face, ‘Eat this, pig!’

 

El Burro turned his head to the side. And, with a quick spin, smacked her to the ground.

 

‘Everyday, I live wit’ the shame of what you did to me. I can’t even bear pissing. Let alone making love.’

 

A smile on his face, Miguel turned around to see his pilot pleading for them to let him go.

 

‘El Burro… what is it? He’s clean.’

 

El Burro looked toward one of his men. The thug showed them a small-caliber pistol, which was formerly hidden up the pilot’s sock.

 

‘I said no guns. Only I carry guns!’

 

‘Please,’ the pilot backed to the ledge. ‘I have a wife and kid! Here,’ he plucked a wallet out of his pants and scrambled through the picture album.

 

‘Good,’ El Burro said gruffly. ‘When I get bored some night… I may just go down there and make her my woman. But that doesn’t save you, Holmes.’

 

‘No.’ the pilot screamed. ‘You son of a bitc--!’

 

El Burro mumbled something in his native language.

 

‘What was that?’ Miguel asked quietly. ‘What did you say?’

 

An eruption of Uzi blasts rang out. Sixteen fully automatic weapons, spurting 9mm rounds flew across the distance between them and the pilot. The pilot didn’t collapse, but instead did a death dance as every chunk of smoking leads entered and tore through him. His knees went. Then he was liberated of both arms and his face. The bloody pilot flopped backwards and, in a second or two, made a soft splash. The Uzi’s emptied.

 

‘Jesus,’ Miguel stepped back. ‘You killed him! He was my cousin!’

 

El Burro gestured for his men to grab Catalina and take her to the back of the truck.

 

Miguel stammered, ‘What… what about the drugs?’

 

‘He blew it for you. Now, all I want you to do is call your brotha in Liberty and be telling him I’m comin’. We’re comin’ soon. And I want three million dollars in cash when my ass lands on the soil. You can offer anything in return,’ he looked at the two kicking legs being inserted into the truck. ‘Even her. Yeah. Tell your nigga that I’ll give her for my money.’

 

Miguel was in shock. ‘After all of that… you’re going to give Gary her?’

 

‘No. They all die in Liberty, no matter what. Now, tell him that I’m coming in three days.’

 

The husky drug-lord got in his car and, pulling away, drew dust among the docks. Miguel closed his eyes to the dirt and listened to the vehicles vanish down the road. He walked over to the ledge and stared down at the surface of the water. There, bobbing upside down in the water was his pilot. He was in too deep now. Nothing could protect him from a man like El Burro. Miguel decided his only option before fleeing to save harbor was to go along.

 

Miguel plopped his cell-phone open and called the phone he left purposely for Gary. The phone rang twice, then answered.

 

A man responded, 'Yes.'

 

'Put Gary Pittman on. I have a few demands from him.'

Edited March 11, 2005 by The Professor

[Lochie_old]

Now I get the rules :-P

 

The Attack

 

As we changed into the Red's gear,2 more cars pulled up. A Yakuza Stinger and Yardie Lobo, we took cover behind the rumpo and saw what was going on.

 

"Alright, we may not be allies but we must take this Jackz guy out, he is to much trouble towards our casino and your territory" The yakuza member said, "Aieeee man, after this I call a joint session, been awhile since I puffed the whacky tabaccy" the Yardie replied, I gripped the trigger loosely,Boz signaled to take them out, but I had other idea's "Hey you two!" I yelled, they both turned around with colts pointed at me. "I am not a Red alright? We are here to elminate him aswell!". They both looked at each other, "Alright, you need to call in more back-up" Just then 5 Pony's arrived, Yardies and Yakuza's rattled out, they seemed to have made friendships "Dam, those dam mexicans put up a good fight!" Just then I got a phone call,

"Phused,yo theres bout 4 Red Rumpos passing through the gardens heading to the airport, me and the boys have managed to take 2 Cartel trucks, we following them" it was Yazu, he was always looking out for fellow Nines "Alright man,theres 3 gangs here all wanting to take them down" the phone went dead, something had happened.

 

---------------------

Probably screwed up, Im kinda new to this Gang mark stuff, so just tell me what Im doing wrong, don't flame me,just say it.

 

~P

[johnson.]

Why dont you psot a story Kearse? Its just im out of ideas and i need to find a good story plot so maybe you can help me?

[9jkearse3]

dont worry i'll post one sometime tomorrow

 

Proff-$84

 

~PhusioN~-$13, your stories could use a little structure when i read them i have a hard time figuring out whats going on seems like jus people yelling at eachother and shooting people...almost as if there really isnt a soryline there

[Lochie_old]

Yea, I can't really think of a good storylone,Hostage situtation now.

 

Hostage

 

Yazu woke up, something had happened,something he hadn't liked. He looked around him and saw other Nine members waking themselves up, "What happened?" said one of them

"Quite in there!" Yelled a guard,his gruff voice sounded like he had talking probelms, Yazu checked his pockets. Nothing expect for a flick knife he had stolen from a cartel member. He walked up to the big door, he stuck the flick knife in and started working away at it. No success.

"I think we better make some plans" Said a Nine member called Seven.

Seven got his name when he was shot 7 times, yet managed to live. the other 3 gang members, Nabby,Saz and Rased. Yazu took the knife out and stood up to peep through the bars on the door,he was greeted by a sinster look, a man with a huge scar from his ear to his neck was staring at him,like beckoning him to fight him.

 

I'll edit it and finish it off,gotta go now bye.

[D Jones]

Chapter 2 : Grove Street

 

I exited out of the Pig Pen strip club and headed out to my Black Patriot. It had tinted windows and was on some 24 fo's. I got in and started it, automatically the Bass blased and Bone Thugs was blastin. I put it in a drive and drove down into Glen Park. I picked up my cell and dialed B-Dups number. It rang and he finally picked up.

 

"Yo, who da f*ck is dis ? " he yelled.

"Damn you need calla ID or sumtim. Its me fool. B"

"Nigga, you need to shut yo mouf. When u comin over herre ?"

"I'm on my way, I got a planned ready for those Grove Street bitches."

"Ight, it betta be good or you will find yo self out in those GS streets..." he said.

 

I hung up. I knew he was playin, he always joked about throwin me into those GS streets... I pulled up into his parkin' lot and saw all of the Ballas surrounding his house, he has two foolz on top of the roof and dozens of them walkin around his front yard and his patio. He had that place on lock down. I walked up to one of the Guards.

 

"Yo, whut up . Let me in B-Dup need me" i said

"Boi, u better shut tha f*ck up. B-Dup tells me who he needs and he didn't say yo bitch ass nigga name" he yelled.

 

I pulled out my Silenced 9mm and pointed it at his head.

 

"What tha f*ck you say nigga ? I am B's home boi and he knows it. Let me in"

"Hellz naw, you gotta shoot me to get threw." he said.

 

I had the gun pointed at his head, but I quickly punched him in the stomach. I put the gun back into my hoody. I grabbed his head a ran it into my knee. He feel down and his nose was bleeding badly. The otha Ballas stared at me as I entered his house. I yelled out his name and I can hear him in his living room.

 

"Yo, whut up B-Dup. What tha f*ck u doin ? " i said

"Nuttin much, just chillin. You said that we can get this OG Bitches .. How ? "

 

I pulled out an Cigar out of my pocket and lit it. I inhaled it then blew the smoke out of my nose.

 

"You think u tuff sh*ts when u do that huh ? " he said

"Man, what tha f*ck eva. It relaxes me.. Anyways, I got some sources sayin that the OG's don't have any OG's out at night. I was thinkin' that we need to stake out in tha Green Bottles bar in tha parkin' lot and wait at the night time. Come out and f*ckin' blast that Johnson family house like we did 12 years ago. Blast all of those broke down ass houses."

 

"Yo, man. We got the gun fire to do it. then lets do this mothaf*cka. I gots a few Rugers a have alot of Uzis. I no thats good enough." he said.

"Hellz yeah, That good enough for a little attack, but dats good. We can plan bigger if we set this mothaf*cka off. All we need to get now is a few ballas to help us out"

 

"Man nicca, I no u no that I can get some ballas. 3 Ballas can hop into my car and like 5 can hop into urs.." he said

 

"Ight, lets go"

 

We both go up and walked outside. B-Dup noticed his Big ass bodyguard and B-Dup kicked the f*ck out of him.

 

"f*ckin pussy" yelled B-Dup

 

We continued walkin and go into the middle of his yard. He stoped and stared at everybody.

 

"We need some strait up Ballas gansta's to help us whipe out these OG foolz. I got some firpowa to help us so anyone want to help ? " he yelled.

 

6 Ballas steped up and we were ready to go. B-Dup walked into his house and brought out 3 Crates of guns. He handed each Balla 2 Uzi's and me and him got the Rugers.

 

"Ight, me and B herre is going to mow down anyone who gets in our way or who is basically walkin' the OG streets. We gonna stake out in the Green Bottlez parkin' lot and wait until 3 o'clock to blast these niccas. You foolz just shoot the f*ck out of Sweet Johnsons and Carl Johnsons house. And if you get enough time smoke that fools Big Bears house too, or I f*ckin will."

 

Big Bear moved into Ryders old ass house. From wat I heard he doin well and is a OG bitch now... I got into my Patriot and 3 of the Ballas hoped into my car and the other 3 got into B-Dups house. We moved out of the parkin lot and all of the people in the front yard and patio started yellin and screamin for us. We rolled out of Glen Park and headin for the OG Streets.

 

We crossed the Bridge that leads to Ganton or Grove Street and Entered the Green Bottles parkin' lot. We all layed low and turned off our cars not to be noticed. IT was 2:30 and we had our guns ready to blow some f*ckin OG heads off. No one was in the streets not even a car.

 

It hit 3 clock and we headed out. My heart was pouding I loaded up my gun adn rolled down my window. I stoped in front of the Middle of the OG Circle. So did B-Dup. HE gave the sign and we all sat out of our windows and started to fire. I saw the first person was a homless person so I busted his ass. Then I noticed no one else was out, I glimpsed at B-Dup and he just started to shoot the houses too. I started to shoot Big Bears house, I fired and didn't stop, my finger did not let go of the trigger. The Johnson house was filled with bullets so was Smokes house. Big Bears house was filled with bullets to. Everyone was screaming and came out of there house. We took off and we heard the gun shots behid us and noticed that some one was chasing us already. We crossed the bridge and noticed that a green sabre chasing us along the bridge heading back for glen park. He caught up to my PAtriot but D-Dup was long gone probably already to his house.

 

"Reload, muthaf*cka's." I yelled.

 

They reloaded and hung out the window and fired upon the green sabre. The man in the Sabre started to swerve around. They shot the Uzis at the tires and the windshield and he finally crashed into a pole. I stoped and turned around.

 

"What tha f*ck u doin nigga ? " one of the ballas said.

"Shut yo damn mouf, I no what Im doin" I yelled.

 

I turned around and parked next to the crashed car. I got out and looked at the person who was in the car. It was Sweet, I cranked open the door and got him out. He was passed out I picked him up and threw him in the back of my PAtriot.

 

I rolled down to Glen Park with no more trouble. I entered the B-Dups parking lot and everyone was still there. They all yelled and started to pat all of us on tha back. I jumped on top of the my patriot.

 

"I got a OG Bitch today, I feel f*ckin' good. This bitch ass nigga think that he can f*ck wit da ballas,Then my niccas rite here caped his ass and made him pay."I yelled.

 

I jumped down and pulled Sweet out of the Patriot. Everone was staring at him and gasped. Some of the ballas came ova and started kickin' him. B-Dup came out and walked over to me and gave me a shake.

 

"Good job my nigga. This is what I've been waiting for" he said

 

He picked him up and we both went into the house. He went down to the basement and sat him down in a chair and tied him with duct tape.

 

"Let this nigga sleep. But we gonna party" he said.

 

We both ran up stairs and turned of the light for Sweet. I knew we had somethin good of the Grove Street Family and we were going to make them pay. We went upstairs f*cked a few girls and started to party..

 

[The Sicillian]

Sindacco Family - Meat Plant

 

Part V - Picking The Four Leafed Clover / Forelli's Plans

 

I stood on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette as I leaned against the door of the black SUV while I waited for Molinari and Italo to come out of the meat plant. It was about a month after the unfortunate demise of the Inside Track betting place. The sun was high in the sky and the day was extremely hot. I adjusted my sunglasses a bit and flicked the cigarette onto the ground. I took a drink from a bottle of ice cold water, a welcome relief in the heat. I poured some over my head, and the water ran down my hair and over my cheap Hawaiian shirt and onto my freshly laundered khakis.

 

Italo was the first one out. He looked at the water on my pants. “Piss yourself, Petie?” I snorted and took another drink of water. Italo was a little taller than Molinari was, about 5’6, but he was muscled much better. He was clean shaven, like his cousin, with beady little black eyes. I’d grown a goatee lately, and the hair had come in coal black, quite different from my hair color.

 

Molinari was a moment later. He plucked a Tic-Tac from his mouth, took a drink from his own water bottle, then popped the Tic-Tac back in. “How many f*cking Tic-Tacs do you go through a day?” I asked. Molinari made a fist, then opened it one finger at a time, and pretended to count under his breath. “I dunno. A hundred? I don’t count. Anyways, there’s more important things to discuss than the number of f*cking Tic-Tacs I have every day.” He unlocked the SUV. “Get in.” Italo called shotgun despite my vociferous objections, so I climbed in the back.

 

I was curious. “Where are we going, man?” Molinari started the engine. “Ammu-Nation,” he said, “Johnny’s put the word out. Patrick O’Brien called his brother in Ireland. Sean O’Brien arrived at Las Venturas International Airport late last night.” I scratched my chin. “So we got a man inside?” Molinari nodded vigorously. “Yeah, guy named Michael Roberts. Got hungry. Real goddamn hungry and Johnny dangled a nice chunk of red meat in front of him. Patrick O’Brien is meeting his brother at the abandoned airstrip at Verdant Meadow at nine o’clock tonight. Soon as he found out, Johnny called us. We’re taking them down.”

 

I whistled loudly at that. “Just the three of us?” Molinari laughed uproariously. “No, definitely not just the three of us. That’d be risky even for you, buddy.” He looked back and grinned. “No, I’m putting together some boys from the crew. I’d say there’ll be about eight or nine of us. Roberts says there’ll be about twenty five to thirty Micks guarding the O’Brien brothers, but we’ll have the drop on them.”

 

“So why are we going to Ammu-Nation?” I asked. Italo turned around and answered. “Why the f*ck do you think? We’re gonna need some heat. We don’t have the heavy duty sh*t we’re gonna need. I’ve got a buddy there. We’ve only got a few Rugers and shotguns at the meat plant, but he’ll set us up with enough to outfit all our boys. Kevlar vests too. Dressed to kill, buddy.”

 

*Meanwhile, in Marco’s Bistro, Liberty City*

 

Sonny Forelli rolled his wheelchair up to a table in a back room of the Bistro. The Bistro had been his headquarters for over twenty years. He’d used it as his headquarters since the time before the bad blood between the Forelli and Leone families had caused a constant but sporadic war between the two families. “That self righteous prick Salvatore always blamed us for Anselm’s death,” he muttered to himself as he poured himself a glass of wine. Anselm Leone had been killed by Peter Barbieri, the Iron Fist of The Sindacco Family, in the last days of the brutal Leone-Sindacco War. “Barbieri means barber,” Forelli thought. “People in Sicily were often given last names based on their profession.” Somewhere back down the line, Peter Barbieri had an ancestor who had been a barber in Sicily. Funny how the name fit Peter so very well. He’d blown the top of Anselm Leone’s head off while the drunken fool groped his whore and gorged himself on a delightful chicken cacciatore.

 

“Salvatore always blamed us,” he muttered again. Anselm Leone had been the exact opposite of his brother. While Salvatore was righteous, moral (well, as moral as a Don could be), loyal to his wife, disciplined and cautious, Anselm had been slovenly, corruptible, a womanizer with little regard for anything except the satisfaction of his own desires. And he was certainly never cautious. Anselm had always believed that everyone loved him, even his enemies. Everyone said it had been Anselm’s idea to triple the size of his guard that night. That was bullsh*t, a myth perpetuated by Salvatore Leone to make his dead brother seem like a tragic victim, a man cut down just as he came to his senses. Anselm hadn’t given a sh*t. Salvatore had insisted that Anselm take the additional guards. For some reason, Salvatore had loved his brother dearly, although Sonny Forelli always suspected it had more to do with the fact that Anselm was their mother’s son, not that Salvatore ever cared for his brother. Salvatore was the consummate businessman, and Anselm Leone was a great oaf who was bad for business.

 

Thankfully, Sonny Forelli hadn’t been there that night when Peter Barbieri and his two friends came calling. Sonny wished it had been under better circumstances. He’d been in physical therapy, trying to recover as best he could from the severed spine Tommy Vercetti had given him. His legs didn’t work anymore, and neither did his cock. “Thank God I had three sons before that son of a bitch took my prick,” Forelli growled to himself. Anselm had decided to celebrate the eminent defeat of the Sindacco Family by having dinner with his good friend Jimmy Forelli, Sonny’s brother. Jimmy had died right beside his good friend, a bullet in his heart, a gift from Peter Barbieri. “And he blamed us,” Forelli said angrily. The Forelli Family had lost a member that night as well, but Leone hadn’t cared. His brother had died in the heart of Forelli territory. That a Forelli had died beside him was of no consequence. From that point on, they weren’t the Forelli Brothers anymore. Just the Forelli Family. Sonny Forelli didn’t have a brother anymore, that son of a bitch Barbieri and that careless oaf Anselm had taken Jimmy. Jimmy hadn’t been like Anselm. Sonny still didn’t know why they’d been friends.

 

“They’ll all pay,” Forelli grumbled. The Forelli Family had been gaining momentum, and the Leone Family was on the run. The Colombian alliance had proved useful, although that raging bitch Catalina and her man whore Miguel had insulted Sonny numerous times. Sonny had no doubt that when he ruled Liberty, he would kill them slowly and take over the entirety of their business. “And that nice mansion in Shoreside Vale,” he said to himself. He had other debts to collect as well. Vercetti would pay. Pay in interest. Forelli had all manners of genital mutilation planned for Vercetti. But there was someone else who would reap the whirlwind of Sonny Forelli’s vengeance.

 

Peter Barbieri.

 

Sonny had bought a man in the Sindacco Family the moment he decided to build a casino in Las Venturas. He had men in the Emerald Isle, Four Dragons and Caligula’s Palace as well. From this man he’d learned that Peter Barbieri was back and working for Johnny Sindacco. Sonny had wanted to knock off Barbieri the minute he’d gotten out of jail, but his war with the Leone Family and plans for expansion had taken up too much time. The opportunity had passed.

 

But Sonny Forelli knew what it meant. Johnny Sindacco would use Barbieri to destroy his enemies. By now, Forelli’s oldest son, Anthony, would be in Las Venturas, overseeing construction of the casino he would manage soon. He was not going to risk losing another family member to Barbieri.

 

And speak of the devil, his son, Jimmy, named after his dead uncle, entered the room. “Hey, pops,” he said, “that guy you wanted is here.” Sonny drained his wine glass. “Send him in.” Jimmy left, and a few minutes returned. A man came in behind him. The man wore a dirty, ratty leather jacket. Well worn. His green pants looked like they hadn’t been washed in ages. His hair was well groomed, though. The man sat down, never saying a word. Forelli bristled at him taking a seat without being offered one.

 

Sonny Forelli poured himself another glass of wine. He poured the man a glass and slid it across the little table to him. “I’ll get right to it,” Forelli said, “do you know who Peter Barbieri is?”

 

 

*Nine o’clock, Verdant Meadow Airstrip*

 

All in black, we crept. There were five of us, but I only knew Molinari and Umberto. Head to toe, all black. We even had black socks on.

 

The Ruger felt good in my hands. I hadn’t handled an assault rifle in ages. It was like being reunited with a long lost lover. I was looking forward to using it. There were nine of us all together, but Italo had taken four other men and was approaching from the other side. The O’Brien Brothers would be caught between us. “The first step,” I thought.

 

There were about ten cars parked on the abandoned airstrip, armed men standing all around. This was not a typical, tense meeting. Patrick and Sean O’Brien were embracing, as brothers should. Their men were fraternizing openly, and more than a few bottles of whiskey were passed around. “Get good and liquored up, you bastards,” I thought. This would be easy enough, an unprepared and drunken enemy would make it all the easier.

 

I crept over to where Molinari was crouched, behind a shrub. “Do we have a signal?” I whispered. Molinari whispered back. “We all synchronized our watches, remember? We hit them exactly at 9:05. It just turned 9:04, man. Get ready.”

 

I got in position. 9:05 arrived.

 

Nine Rugers fired as one, spraying death on the O’Brien’s. The headlights of their cars provided more than enough light. One by one, the men fell, trying desperately to fight back, firing blindly at our muzzle flashes. Things became panicked. I fired wildly as targets began to dwindle. A bullet whizzed past my head. I was grateful it missed, but my gratitude turned to slight sadness as the man next to me fell down, gurgling. The bullet had taken him in the throat. He fell down and choked to death on his own blood.

 

I began approaching the O’Brien’s now, firing and moving, with Molinari and the remaining men firing at the handful of Irishmen that remained.

 

By the time I got to the cars, they were all dead and Italo had already arrived. Molinari wasn’t that far behind. The butchers bill was very high. Thirty seven Irishmen killed, including Sean and Patrick O’Brien, who were identified by Molinari. Molinari’s team had lost two men, Italo had lost one. We said a prayer for the dead. Molinari beckoned me to come over to him. I walked up to him and he handed me the car keys. “Go back to the car,” he said, “and get the shovels out of the back. We’ll take our dead back to town with us, and give them a proper burial. We’ll bury the Micks here. Friend or foe, they don’t deserve to be left for the vultures.” I nodded solemnly. This was how power was gained. I had no problem with it. But just because I had no problem killing men didn’t mean I relished it. We’d parked a ways off, it would be a long walk, and the night was cold.

 

The price of power had been paid. And we received the goods we’d purchased. Patrick’s weak-kneed brother Seamus O’Brien, knowing exactly what had happened, accepted Johnny Sindacco’s extremely low offer to buy his share of the casino. And in light of his brother’s death, Seamus O’Brien owned all of the Emerald Isle. The price paid for the Emerald Isle was but a fraction of what it was worth. But it didn’t matter. It was a conquest, or as close as one can come to a conquest in this line of work. Seamus promptly fled back to Ireland, and it was abundantly clear that the last great Irish crime family in the United States had died in the cold, black desert with Patrick O’Brien.

 

The first major step had been taken. Now it was time for another. I prayed that Johnny Sindacco , Molinari, Italo and I didn’t trip.

Edited March 12, 2005 by The Sicillian

[DarkGTA]

Chapter 1 - The robbery:

 

 

I entered my apartment and sat down. Then, B-Dup starts crashing through the back

door.

 

 

"What are you doing B-dup?"

 

"What does it look like I'm doing?! My drugs are gone!"

 

 

"WELL, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAW THEM?"

 

"RIGHT HERE ON THE BED! dID YOU TAKE 'EM? If you did, you're dead!"

 

"Man, I didn't take 'em. Man, I didn't even knew you took drugs!"

 

"I maybe left them in the Crack palace."

 

We go to the crack palace and go in.

 

"There not here!"

 

I hear a ring on my pager.

 

 

"Darkgta, if you are hearing this, I took b-dups drugs and your apartment. If you

want them back, you fight the Grove street families. 15:00pm, grove street. We will be waiting."

 

"b-dup, the GSF took my apartment and your drugs"

 

"Those fools. What time do we fight 'em?"

 

"15:00pm, grove street."

 

"alright, thats 6 hours."

 

 

B-Dup and me pull up and see the GSF face to face. Ballas vs. Grove Street

 

"Grove street rules los santos. The ballas are much too weak. You can't stop us!"

 

"Oh, we can."

 

 

The ballas pull out a silenced 9mm and the Grove Street start getting in there cars.

 

 

"We need backup! Get us some men in cars!"

 

 

Some ballas pull up in Patriots and come out with a Colt M4 and a MP5.

 

 

"Crap, looks like this is heavy."

 

 

The Grove Street Families start coming over to the ballas with METAL baseball bats.

 

 

"Ballas! Take Cover!"

 

 

B-Dup, Me and the ballas hide in different spots as quiet as can be.

 

 

"wtf are those guys?"

 

 

I peek around and kill the grove men.

 

"wtf was that?"

 

"Probally some idiots."

 

 

I peek around again and shoot Ryder.

 

 

"Holy sh*t! Ryder is dead!"

 

I then, shoot Big Smoke.

 

"Crap, what is this."

 

 

B-Dup then shoots Sweet.

 

 

"Finally, Grove Street Turf is ours. Too bad the houses are in grove.

 

 

I get B-Dups drugs and we go back to the apartment with some sh*tty GSF stuff.

 

"Let's throw this crap away."

 

 

"Ok, I'll get the Balla's Trash Basket."

 

 

"We have old pizza under the bed! When was the last time you hid your food?"

 

 

"Man, I've been doing that for months."

 

"LOL. Never thought of that."

 

 

We finish cleaning up the apartment and make it look spotless. We washed away the spary painted

graffiti on the wall and cleaned my apartment up.

 

 

"Wow. We cleaned that fast. Now, I think this apartment is bigger than your crack palace."

 

"No, way! My palace is much bigger!"

 

"How? It's smaller! All you have there is a tv, stereo and a pothole to rest your ass on."

 

"So. It's still bigger becuase it a PALACE!"

 

"It's a CRACK place, stupid."

 

"LOL. You've lost my attention."

 

 

B-Dups leaves and takes his ride back to his house. I sit on the chair and watch T.V from then on until B-Dup returns

to the apartment with a secret mood.......

 

 

Part 2 coming 3/14/05

 

 

My first go..... How was that?

 

 

 

p.s, You forgot to add me to the list.

[The Sicillian]

Hey Kearse, is it OK for me to use other characters sometimes, in a third person part to kinda flesh out the story, the way I used Sonny Forelli, or do I have to keep to my own characters and characters belonging to my gang?I think using other characters to provide a point of view and stuff to the events going on would work out well, and also, as in Forelli's case, show what's happening on the other side.

[SloStenRacing]

I doubt kearse will have a problem with that seeing as there are only like 4-6 people that still have an interest in writing stories here.

[The Truth.]

I doubt kearse will have a problem with that seeing as there are only like 4-6 people that still have an interest in writing stories here.

I'm carefully planning where my story can go from here actually.

[F-s-X]

finnaly my new story

The Da Nang Boys - Chapter 6

An old friend

 

I couldn’t sleep so around 01.15 i went out for a walk. I pretended i didn’t know what was wrong but i knew, i could have been killed i was now scared. Why do i hafto do all the work.

From now on i am going to let all my mates do the dirty work. But i need someone who can get things working, then i knew who it was. I went in and made a phone call. I fell asleep 5 minutes later.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next day I met Chris around 12.

“C’mon Chris jump in we are going to the airport”I stole a car meanwhile I was talking.

“OK”

 

(Here comes my new main character Tan)

---------------------------------------------------------------

 

I’m glad Kim called, it’s gonna be nice to see all my mates again and i had alot of trouble in Liberty. San Fierro seems like a nice city. The plane landed and i got out but i was one of the last to get my bag. When i got out i see Kim standing there with someone.

“Kim, it’s so fun to see you again”I gave him a hug.

“yeah, i’ve been missing you, Tan”we all went in the car “Oh yeah, this is Chris”.

“Hi i’m Tan”I said“Hi, Kim have told me alot about you the last hour”.

We went cruising in pier 69 and i saw alot of familiar faces. He stopped outside of a pizza place, the Well stacked pizza or something.

“Do you want to eat”Kim asked

“Sure” We all went in. Kim started talking about his future plans.

“I have risked my life to much, from now on you two are going to take care of my business, we are going to bet big drugs, alcohol, weapons the whole sh*t. Tan you better watch out for the triads, now i’m going to the pleasure domes and talk to Jizzy, But first come with me out”

We went outside. “Look at all these warehouses soon we are going to start our business here.

And Tan you can take my old apartment, i got a new place” He pointed at an apartment across the street.”Alright, i will go pack up i’ll will see you guys later, ok”

“ok later”Chris replied. So this is my future, to fight triads and start a drug business.

[SloStenRacing]

Glad to see people writing again it takes alot of the BUYG IV weight off my shoulders guys. Now I dont have to put out six stories a week to keep this near the top!!

[9jkearse3]

Hey Kearse, is it OK for me to use other characters sometimes, in a third person part to kinda flesh out the story, the way I used Sonny Forelli, or do I have to keep to my own characters and characters belonging to my gang?I think using other characters to provide a point of view and stuff to the events going on would work out well, and also, as in Forelli's case, show what's happening on the other side.

as long as nobody dies while you are doing it im all for it

 

 

 

D-Jones-$37..take that OGF mof*ckas

 

The Sicillain-$135 and the O’Brien’s are no more

 

Dark GTA-$18 you have room for improvement...added

 

F-s-X $20 I like the way you are improving

 

[SloStenRacing]

If I don't have another long night like I did last night (I came out of retirement for a night) then I should have a story up sometime in the early morning.

[The Truth.]

Lock and Load

 

“Hello?” I said into my phone, “It’s Truth.”

“Oh, what you after?” replied Fernando, my friend and now business partner.

“20 men armed with M4’s and Desert Eagles, by 8:00pm.”

“What? Why the hell do you want them?”

“Russians are planning an attack on The Strip tonight, I need people prepared.”

“Ok, your men will be arriving in a group of Mafia Sentinels.” Said Fernando,

“Thank you.” I said, and hung up. However, I’d need more than 20 men, since a Russian I had interrogated said there would be at least 40. This would be a blood bath. I went round the casino, gathering all but 6 of the security guards, totalling at 24, and took them to the basement. I handed them each and MP5 which I had bought with some of the money from the heist.

“Right, they’re some Russians planning an attack on the Strip tonight, you need to take them out. I have men coming at 8:00 to help, prepare to be outnumbered. Go get some rest and prepare, buy body armor, whatever you fancy. Just be back here by 6:00pm tonight.” I told them, as a briefing. They filed out one by one leaving the casino almost deserted. I ushered out the remaining customers and locked up, I’d need to think up a plan.

 

 

***

 

At 6:00pm my security guards arrived, each with their MP5, and some with body armor. I gave one a sniper rifle and told him to sit atop the casino picking off the Russians. Then they went outside and positioned themselves all over the strip, waiting for the Russians.

 

 

***

 

They didn’t have long to wait however, since the Russians arrived earlier than expected. First 3 cars came up, and 4 Russians got out of each and started blasting, 4 security guards were gunned down, but my sniper took out the danger. Then another group of cars came, but this time there were 5. 20 guys this time, the sniper took out 6, 5 more of my men were gunned down and then eventually the Russians were taken out. I now only had 15 men, and Fernando’s guys still hadn’t showed up. That was when it happened. 8 trucks came racing down the strip, running over 3 of my guards on the way and came skidding to a halt. Out of each jumped a small group of Russians, I guessed about 5 or 6. That made a total of 40 odd Russians. And I only had 12 guards. The Russians took out all of my men with ease, and even noticed the sniper and took him out. Then they turned their attention to my casino. Where I was hiding!

“Fernando! Where the f*ck are your men you a**hole?” I yelled into my phone,

“On their way, what’s up with you?” He said calmly,

“All my guards have been taken out, and now 40 f*cking Russians are coming to storm the freaking casino, damnit!” I screamed,

“Oh sh*t,” He exclaimed, “My men’ll be there in a second!”

Meanwhile the Russians had got to the door, one smashed them with the butt of his gun, which I presumed were AK-47s, and let the rest in. They then rushed in, killed all the remaining security and the reception staff and made their way to the office. I barricaded the door with some stuff, and then grabbed a load of guns from the cupboard. I then phoned the police. I had a Sawn-Off Shotgun, A High Power Desert Eagle Pistol, and an M4. I waited behind my desk for them to come in. It only took a minute or two. A couple of Russians stumbled in and they ate the bullets of my M4, because of the disturbance, a few more came, and my Shotgun decapitated most of them. 6 more came and I was stumped, so I jumped behind the desk and just let rip. Amazingly, they were all killed, but then more came, and I was helpless. I shot a couple more, leaving about 11 Russians, but they were fast approaching. I almost gave up hope, but then I heard the squealing of car tyres, and the smashing of glass. Fernando was here.

“Alright, Truth?!” He yelled from behind the Russians. They turned round and saw 7 cars, each with 5 men in. All were armed with M4s, and they were wearing body armor.

“Hello!” Yelled Fernando, as the Russians and Fernando’s boys opened fire with a massive spray of bullets. A couple of Fernando’s boys were hit, but they made light work of the Russians.

“Woah, nice firing,” I said,

“Easy as pie.” Replied Fernando.

Suddenly a pain greeted me in my right arm, and I glanced down to see blood pouring out of a gunshot wound. I must’ve been hit by one of Fernando’s boys accidentally. The room became blurry, and then I blacked out.

 

[Gta Gamer.]

 

"wtf are those guys?"

...

"wtf was that?"

...

"LOL. Never thought of that."

...

"LOL. You've lost my attention."

 

 

 

My first go..... How was that?

 

That is really a poor excuse for spelling and grammar.

You don't put "wtf" and "lol" in stories.

 

Well I don't mean to be an arse, but because no one else will say it - it sucked.