L.A.N.C.E

[Sinful]

Great chapter, Sinful. Loved that mission, "Cop Land"

 

Oh, and did you base the names of the cops in that mission of off some characters in the movie "Cop Land"? Am I right? huh?

 

lol

Actually, no... Reid is character in Criminal Minds, and Horatio Caine is a char in CSI Miami

[Sinful]

Chapter XII - Please, man, don't do that

 

 

-LANCE! Wake up! -the voice said, knocking on the door. Lance opened his eyes. He was in a room in the Mansion wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt and shorts.

-Who’s there? -asked him.

-Tommy here. C’mon, we got stuff to do.

Lance got up from the couch and looked through a window. The sun was strong, so he picked sunglasses from a coffee table. He opened the door and Tommy was standing there.

-Good morning, Tommy.

-What happened to your suit? -asked Tommy. He was wearing his black suit with grey pinstripes and a pink shirt.

-It’s hot out there. What do you want?

-Today, I’m gonna buy the Malibu Club.

-The Malibu? Sheeit, I’m always ‘round there.

-Heh, I know. C’mon, let’s go.

They left the Mansion and got in Tommy’s Cheetah, driving off to the Malibu Club.

-So you decided to take Avery’s advice, huh? -asked Lance while Tommy was driving through the bridge.

-What advice?

-What you need is a legitimate front Tommy, real estate. -said Lance, trying to imitate Avery Carrington’s voice.

-Hah, kind of.

 

Tommy parked the car in the front of the club, grabbed a briefcase from the back of the seat, and they both got out. “Rush Rush”, by Debbie Harry, was playing inside the Club.

-Hey I wanna talk your manager. -said Tommy to the bartender.

-Why do you wanna talk to him? -asked the bartender.

-I’m buyin’ this place.

-Hah, you gotta be kidding, right? This place ain’t for sale.

-We’ll see. Where’s your manager?

-There’s no manager, tough guy. I own this. And it’s not for sale.

-C’mon, everyone has a price. How much do you want?

-Not for sale, man! Now excuse me, your blocking my view.

Lance jumped the balcony and grabbed the owner above him.

-Listen to me, bitch. -said Lance -Me and Tommy are buying this place, no matter what you say.

-Security!

Two men in black suits and sunglasses walked to them holding canes.

-Hah, this your security? -said Tommy, showing his Colt45 to the guards. -C’mon guys, you don’t wanna try it. So why don’t you just walk away and pretend this never happened?

The security guards looked at each other and walked away.

-Hey you dickheads! Get back here! You’re fired! -yelled the Club owner.

-No, YOU are fired! -said Lance, throwing him in the floor and kicking him in the balls.

-I got one hundred and twenty grand in the briefcase. That must be enough to pay it, right?

-That’s it! I’m calling the police! -said the bartender, trying to reach the phone in the balcony and getting kicked in the face by Lance.

-C’mon man. Don’t try it. Go get some vacations. Go to Malibu, I heard the beaches there are awesome. -said Lance.

The Club owner was terrified. Those two strangers walked in his beloved Club, trying to take it out of him. He would get killed if he didn’t sell the Club.

-Ok, ok, alright! I just gotta sign some papers and…

-Not a problem, fella, it’s all here. -Tommy opened the briefcase and picked a paper. -It’s all there. All you gotta do is sign right here, grab the money, and be happy.

The Club owner took the paper and signed it. He grabbed the briefcase full of money and walked out of the Club.

-Sheeit. Where’d you got this paper?

-Rosenberg. He’s pretty fast. After snoring a bit of coke.

-Haha… So, what we gonna do here? Maybe we could redecorate and rename the club to something like Vice Club and…

-No. The name stays. I’m thinking about using this as a front to a job…

-Ok, but hey, I’m just making a suggestion here and…

-Suggestion? I bought this Club. Was that your money?

-Part of it yeah!

-What part, Lance? All you do is kill our employees and get drunk.

-f*ck you!

-No, f*ck you.

Lance grabbed one of the security guard’s canes from the ground and hit the bar, breaking lots of bottles.

-What are you doing, Lance?

Lance looked at Tommy and left the Club. He grabbed his cell phone and called one of the goons in the Mansion.

-Hey, I need my car. I’m at the Malibu, bring it to me, okay?

In ten minutes Lance’s Infernus was parked in front of the Club. He got in and drove off to the Mansion.

 

Lance walked to one of the Mansion’s rooms and grabbed a package of cocaine. He opened it in a table and started snoring it.

-Damn Tommysh… Always treating me like my brother… -said Lance, taking his cell phone and calling Tommy. -Tommy, it's me, Lance. Keep your mouth shut there Tommy, 'cause I ain't got time to talk. I ain't interested in what you got to say. Why should I be? You don't care about me, do you? You gotta look after me a bit better. Give me a fair slice. You know... -Lance inhaled more cocaine. -Tommy... oh, look, man, I'm sorry. It's just that... People patronize me all my life, treat me like a little kid. My brother would do that. Please, man, don't do that. I gotta go.

Lance turned the cell phone off and kept snoring cocaine. In a few minutes he was sleeping in the table with half the face painted white by the powder.

 

Tommy parked the Cheetah in the Mansion garage and got out. His plan in robbing the El Grande Banco Corrupto was turning into reality thanks to the blueprints Ken provided and the safe cracker, Cam Jones. All he needed was a shooter and a driver. Maybe he could use Lance as the shooter. He walked inside the Mansion hall and yelled:

-LANCE! You there? Look, I gotta talk to you, about that job. Lance? -Tommy walked through the Hall looking for Lance and finally found him in a room. He appeared to be sleeping in a table. Tommy walked to him and turned Lance to him. There was a package opened in the table, which was full of cocaine, as well as Lance’s face. -sh*t, Lance! Wake up!

 

Lance opened his eyes. The voice was telling him to wake up, but he didn’t want to. All he wanted was sleep. Maybe he had to kick the voice so he could sleep. The voice appeared to be Tommy’s.

-Tommy? That you?

-sh*t, Lance, I though you OD’d! What the f*ck you think you’re doing?

-Ah, this… I’m just relaxing, baby… You know, too much things happening at the same time and…

-And then you ask me why I’m not giving you a fair slice, huh? I was gonna call you to do a job with me, but after this? sh*t.

-I can do it! I was just relaxing! This ain’t nothing!

-Nothing? This is the difference between dead and alive in a situation!

-Dead and alive? What you talking about? We own this town, we can’t get killed, we’re invincible! Haha…

-Oh yeah? So how come Diaz is dead? He owned the town!

-He was fat, that’s why.

-sh*t, Lance. You gotta stop with this sh*t, It’s gonna kill you, believe me.

-No it won’t! Besides, it’s my coke, I do whatever I want with it!

Tommy walked out of the room. Lance snort more cocaine and got back to sleep.

 

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

New short non-action chapter. Kinda more like an explanation to Lance's reasons... Expect next chapter by tomorrow.

 

Also, here's a tiny image for whoever wants to support this fanfic:

Code:

 

[img=http://img393.imageshack.us/img393/3523/lancevl8.png]

 

[Serafim]

The chapter is good, I just don't think that part was THAT important

[GSF_Membuh]

Great Chapter!

[Blackadder.]

Nice chapter I love the way Tommy treats Lance

[Sinful]

Chapter XIII - An Old Drunk Buddy

 

 

-Look, Tommy, I’m sorry for the last day. It’s just that… -said Lance, who spent the whole day playing baseball with the Mansion’s guards.

-No problem.

-So I can work on that job with you?

-Actually I got the shooter today.

-So?

-So no.

-Oh. Ok… -they were watching Johnny’s Angels on TV. -These girls are hot, huh?

-Yes.

-What’s you problem Tommy?

-Nothing.

-C’mon, what’s popping?

-Ghosts from the past. Heh.

-What?

-You know where I came from, right?

-Liberty City, I guess.

-Yes. And there I used to work to the Mob.

-You a mobster? sh*t, that explains a lot.

-Then they sent me to do a freakin’ job, things went wrong and I ended up behind bars.

-Oh.

-Then this year I got out, and Sonny--

-Sonny? Who the hell’s Sonny?

-He was a capo regime for the Forelli Mafia up in Liberty. He was the one who sent me to the job that got me in jail. Today he’s the Don there. And now I got out of jail and he appears, pretending to be my best buddy.

-Oh… Well I bet they ain’t too happy with what we’re doin’ here, right?

-Yes.

-So?

-When I left jail he sent me down here to do that deal with your brother. Things went wrong, we left the money and the drugs…

-Oh…

-Now he knows I’m making moves. That I’m not a Forelli dog no more. He wants his money. From the deal.

-You’ll pay him? I mean, you already got the money.

-No, I won’t. I’ve cut my relationships with Liberty the moment I killed Diaz.

 

-But Tommy, they’re the Mob!

-Bring it on!

-Tommy… You a psycho.

-I know!

-Haha… So, what you up these days?

-I’m working on this bank job at the Malibu…

-Then?

-I dunno. Maybe then I’ll get some rest…

-Oh… So, who’s the shooter?

-Some army guy. Drunk and fat. A great shooter, though.

-What’s his name?

-Phil Cassidy or something.

-Oh. Look, Tommy, I… I gotta go, see ya.

-Bye.

Lance quickly left the Mansion and got in his Infernus, driving off to Phil’s house in Vice Port.

 

Phil’s Walton wasn’t parked in the outside. Instead, a Hermes was there, and two Cubans were talking.

-Hey, you. -said Lance.

-What you want?

-I’m looking for Phil Cassidy.

-Phil Cassidy? I don’t--

-Phil Cassidy! Ah… That funny guy! Heh, he was probably drunk. -said the second Cuban.

-Yeah, that’s him. Where’s he?

-He sold this place to us a couple weeks ago, you know?

-So where’d he go?

-He said he was going back to his place… Somewhere in Little Haiti.

-Oh, ok, thanks. -said Lance, getting back in his car and driving off.

 

He knew just where to find Phil Cassidy. His brother’s old warehouse, which was gave to him by Louise Cassidy, Phil’s sister. He got there and there was no Walton parked. Instead there was a green Patriot parked.

-Phil? You there? Phil? I gotta talk to you… -said Lance. He felt a gun barrel in his neck.

-Who are you and what do you want here?

-It’s me, Lance!

-Lance who?

-Lance Vance!

-Haha, don’t think I’ll buy that! Lance Vance’s dead!

-What? I’m here!

-I saw it on the news! Now who are you?

-Oh… You mean my brother Vic! That’s not me! I’m Lance! You remember me!

-Oh… It’s you! -said Phil Cassidy, putting the gun down. -How ya doin’, kid?

-I’m fine!

-Long time no see, huh?

-Yeah…

-Oh yeah, sorry for your brother. He was a fine man. A great soldier.

-Why you moved?

-Aw… Some stinkish police guy was trying to take my boomshine supply out, so I had to lay low! No better place than here.

-Lay low? You have a giant sign in the entrance that says ‘Phil’s Place’!

-Oh, that? It doesn’t matter… The police don’t know my name! Anyway, I don’t think you here to ask me about why I moved. What you want?

-Tommy Vercetti.

-What about him?

-sh*t, why he’s the only famous one? … I’m working with him, we’re partners.

-Nice. So?

-You’re making a job with him, right?

-Yeah, looks like we’re blowing up a safe or sumthin’.

-You know, I was supposed to be the shootist.

-Yeh?

-Yea… Tommy kicked me outta this job…

-Why?

-Aw, man… -said Lance, walking to a pile of tires and sitting on one of them, followed by Phil. -You know, he’s just like my brother!

-He’s black?

-No! It’s just that… He treats me like a kid, just like Vic used to!

-So what?

-Never mind me. I just came here to say… Look, be careful with Tommy. He’s a bit selfish sometimes, ya know?

-Whatever.

-sh*t, I shouldn’t even came here…

-No Lance, listen! Tommy’s a nice guy, he’s doin’ it alright! Did you quit using coke?

-Did you quit drinking?

-Haha… Nah…

-Look, Phil, I gotta go. It was nice to see you again.

-Nice to see you too, Vance. You know you can count on me anytime, huh?

-Nice to hear that, see ya.

Lance left and got back in his Infernus and drove off heading back to the Mansion.

-So Phil’s working for Tommy… Tommy’s getting all my contacts… Oh he can’t do that… -said Lance to himself, and his cell phone ringed. -Lance here.

-Umberto Robina.

-Hey, Umberto, how ya’ doin’?

-I’m good. But listen, I heard you’ve been making moves, huh?

-Yeah, me and Tommy, yeah. Well, thanks to you for introducing us both, haha…

-Haha… Look, this Tommy’s working for me.

-What you mean?

-He’s doing a few jobs helping us Cubans, like your brother did, remember?

-Oh, yeh, nice to hear that. So what you wanted to ask?

-Well, you know… There was this guy Leo, he used to do a few hits for me, you know how it is.

-Yeah, I do.

-So, that’s how I found Tommy, by calling Leo!

-Was Leo a chef?

-How do you know that?

-Long story.

-So, I wanna know only one thing: is Tommy trustworthy?

-Yes, Umberto, he is. My only complaint about him is that… Sometimes… He’s kinda… Selfish, you know?

-Selfish?

-Yeah, he treats me just like my brother used to. But you can trust him to do these jobs for ya.

-Ok, good to know that, Lance. I gotta go now.

-See you, Umberto. -said Lance, turning the phone off.

Edited December 23, 2006 by Sinful

[VicVance]

Good chapter The dialog between Lance and Phil was really funny

[Sinful]

Thanks, VicVance...

No one else?

[Rashon.]

Lol. "Quit using coke".

 

Great chapter.

[Nick Papagiorgio]

 

-Aw, man… -said Lance, walking to a pile of tires and sitting on one of them, followed by Phil. -You know, he’s just like my brother!

-He’s black?

 

lmao. Good Chappy. "Jhonny's Angels=Charlies Angels"?

 

[Sinful]

-Aw, man… -said Lance, walking to a pile of tires and sitting on one of them, followed by Phil. -You know, he’s just like my brother!

-He’s black?

 

lmao. Good Chappy. "Jhonny's Angels=Charlies Angels"?

Yeah

 

I love easter eggs

[Serafim]

Nice and important chapter, it shows how Lance discovered Sonny . I liked the chat with Phil and Umberto, but I don't think it's THAT important, just an addition, but I like it.

[Blackadder.]

Good Chapter

[Sinful]

Chapter XIV - Fair Enough?

 

 

Lance slept all night and morning in the Mansion. When he woke up Tommy was talking to a Mansion guard in the office.

-And don’t you do that again, do you understand, Anderson? Now go.

The guard left the room and Lance got in.

-Wow, nice chair you got there, “boss”.

-Heh. You like it? Brand new leather. Look, it got a V here. -said Tommy, getting up from the chair and showing a gold V in the black seat.

-Cool, Tommy. V for Vance and Vercetti, huh?

-Yeah, kind of… More like V only for Vercetti.

-What?

-Relax! I’m just kidding. -said Tommy, sitting back in the chair. -So, you know what I just bought?

-Lemme guess. A new suit?

-No. The cab company, Kaufman Cabs. You know I’ve been thinking of changing the name to Vercetti Cabs, what do you think?

-Well, I don’t think it’d be really awesome, ‘cause, ya know, my name’s Vance, not Vercetti.

-Haha…

Lance sat down in a chair in the other side of the desk and said:

-So, will you let me handle this one?

-This one what?

-The cab company.

-What do you mean, handle?

-Ya know, be the man. Say the words.

-Be the man and say the words? All those guys gotta do is take people from point A to point B!

-Oh really?

-Yeah, really.

-No--.

-Stop it. You ever heard of the Print Works?

-Print Works? Yeah. My brother used to go there… Actually I used to go there and get some huh… Fake paper, you know?

-Yeah, haha, I know… And that’s something you could help me with.

-What, you can’t do this by yourself? Haha…

-Nah, the Forellis didn’t really taught me that part of the business… What, you don’t wanna help?

-No, no, I do… I was just kidding.

-Ok look. I bought the place yesterday, and it was a mess. The only guy working there’s printing some Donkey Porn sh*t for some Latin guy from Liberty. Anyway. All I wanted was to print some paper… No, not fake money, I mean newspaper, some magazine, whatever. Then this guy come and talks me about counterfeit cash… Well let’s say I gave up of the newspaper pretty fast…

-Haha… Then what did you do?

-Then I went to talk to Kent Paul.

-Who’s that?

-Some asshole who think he’s a player. So, he said there was a shipping company operating on the docks. I figured out their boss would be involved in the party, so I got there and asked him some questions…

-What you mean? Just like that?

-Well, maybe there were a few blue uniforms there, but nothing much. Do you know who supplies the plates for this sh*t?

-No clue.

-The Triads.

-The Triads? sh*t! That’s some heavy stuff… I though they didn’t operate in Vice.

-Yeah, me too… They’re big in Liberty and San Fierro, but Vice? Well, the guy said the Triad courier’s getting here today at the docks. So I’ll go there, get the plates, and bring’em over to the Print Works. -said Tommy, laying in the chair with the feet above the desk.

-And you think the Triads will just hand it over to ya?

-Well, maybe, but not hopefully, I’ll have to use some firepower.

-And you got the firepower here?

-Actually, no. It’s hidden in the Print Works. Let’s go there.

-Alright.

Tommy and Lance left the Mansion, getting in the red bullet-proof Cheetah. Tommy turned the engine on and drove their way to the Print Works.

-Tommy. -said Lance, when the car was passing in front of a drug store.

-What, Lance?

-Tommy, will you gimme a fair cut on this one?

-Fair? Yeah.

-What do you mean? Fifty-fifty?

-Let’s say, 70% me and 30% you.

-What?

-Lance, I’m doing the tough part, all you gotta do is handle the minor stuff.

-Great, Tommy, just great. Thanks a lot.

Tommy got there and parked the Cheetah in front of the Print Works. Twelve organization’s guards were hanging around the place.

-So, Lance, I’ll go there at the docks, pick up the plates, and you’ll stay here in case I need some backup when I come back, ok?

-Sure, Tommy, sure.

They left the car and got in the building. Ernest Kelly was there waiting for them.

-Hey Tommy! And who’s this? -said Kelly.

-This is my partner, Lance Vance. He’ll help us on the job.

-Hey how ya doin’? -asked Lance.

-I’m fine, kid.

-Alright, the courier's moving the plates from the docks today. -said Tommy. I'm gonna go intercept them, grab the plates, lose any heat, and make my way back here. Now. Depending how well this goes, we may have five minutes to print the money before the counterfeit syndicate finds us, or we may have all year. Either way, I want green rolling off the presses five minutes after I get back. Got it?

-Don't you worry Tommy. We'll be ready. -said Ernest.

-Me an'the boys will be around in the neighborhood case you need any heat taken care of. -said Lance.

-All right, everybody cool? All right. I'll catch you later...

Tommy grabbed a Ruger machine gun behind a printing roller and left the building, getting in his Cheetah and driving off.

 

-Ok, guys, Tommy’s gonna do a lil’ sumthin’ and we’ll probably need to cover his ass when he gets back. -said Lance to the security guards outside the Print Works. You with me?

-Sure thing. -said one of the goons, grabbing his Mac10 from inside his pants. The other goons did the same thing, and they waited for Tommy Vercetti to get back from the docks.

 

In half an hour Tommy was back and two VCPD Cruisers were behind him. Lance and the goons had made a roadblock with their cars, leaving an open space so Tommy could pass through it. Tommy did, and the Cruisers stopped before the block. The policemen left their cars and begun shooting at the goons.

 

-Get closer! I can’t reach him! -said Officer DiNozzo.

-How do you expect me to get closer? He’s in a Cheetah for f*ck’s sake! -said Officer McGee, finishing his Colt 45 clip trying to hit the suspect’s red Cheetah.

-sh*t! I’m outta ammo!

-There’s a shotgun behind the seat, probie!

-Don’t call me that!

-Shut up and take it!

McGee threw his Colt45 on the Cruiser’s floor, grabbed the Chrome Shotgun from behind the seat, and tried to shoot the Cheetah.

-I couldn’t reach him with the pistol, what do you want me to do with this?

-It’s the only op-- sh*t!

Four XS edition Sentinels were parked in a line, and lots of men were aiming Mac10s sub machine guns to the Officers. The red Cheetah had passed through the roadblock and parked his car behind it.

DiNozzo parked the Cruiser in the same direction as the Sentinels, and with the other police car they made their own roadblock.

-Shoot them! -said DiNozzo, grabbing another Shotgun from the Cruiser. -Shoot them all!

McGee felt on the ground with his chest covered in bullets.

 

-sh*t, they’ve got shotguns! -said one of the guards.

-So what? -said Lance, shooting one of the cops all over the chest.

-Hey, fellas, how ya doin’? -said Tommy, joining them in the shooting with his Ruger.

-Hey, Tommy, so how’d it go?

-Nothing much. Maybe the Triad is pissed off with me, but no big deal.

In a few minutes all the cops were dead and only one of the goons had been shot and taken to a private medic.

-Ok, now you guys, get rid of the bodies. Tommy, what you gonna do about the car?

-Dump it.

-Dump a Cheetah?

-What else can I do? The cops are gonna look for it soon!

-Alright. You -said Lance, pointing his finger at a goon. -Dump that car.

In twenty minutes all the cop cars and bodies had disappeared, as well as all the blood on the street. The Cheetah had been dumped on the sea.

-Ok, Lance, Kelly’s already making the counterfeit cash. We should get outta here.

-Oh, awesome, you can call that cab company of yours, and you don’t have to pay nothing!

-Oh, I do, I don’t wanna be beaten up by their owner. That Tommy Vercetti is a real maniac!

-Haha…

Tommy called a cab in his cell phone and in five minutes they were in the backseat of the taxi in their way to the Mansion.

-Hey, Tommy. -said Lance.

-What?

-You really gonna gimme only 30% of the action?

-Yes, Lance, I though we were through with this…

-Ok, ok… Just clearin’ it up.

Lance could stand Tommy treating him like a child. Lance could stand Tommy embarrassing him in front of the guards. Lance could stand the fact that Tommy kept him out of his personal jobs. Lance just couldn’t stand the fact that Tommy was stealing his money.

Something had to be done about it.

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

I liked this one.

Edited December 22, 2006 by Sinful

[VicVance]

The chapter was awesome!!

"Lance could stand Tommy treating him like a child. Lance could stand Tommy embarrassing him in front of the guards. Lance could stand the fact that Tommy kept him out of his personal jobs. Lance just couldn’t stand the fact that Tommy was stealing his money.

Something had to be done about it."

This is great!You're very good writer.Why don't you do another fanfic like this?Ryder-the other side of the story

 

[Serafim]

This one was nice Sinful! Very nice chapter! And that's the best reason to backstab tommy

[Blackadder.]

Nice Chapter Sinful, keep it up!

[Sinful]

Chapter XV - I’d like to speak with Sonny Forelli.

 

 

Tommy was not in the Mansion. In fact, nearly nobody was there. Lance was dressed in his white suit when he got in the Infernus and turned the engine on, driving to Phil’s Place in Little Haiti. If he was going to take Tommy out, he would need some help.

 

Phil was practicing shooting in some targets in a wall when Lance got there. The targets were Vietnam flags.

-Woo hay! Die, Vietcong! Heehaw! -said Phil, looking at Lance and waving his gun at him. -Lance!

-Wow, watch where you aim that thing.

-What? You don’t think I’m a good shooter? -said Phil, putting his gun back in his pocket.

-Look, I gotta talk you about stuff.

-I’m here.

-Look, Tommy’s leaving me behind, man. He’s cutting me outta the organization!

-What can I say? Talk to him!

-I tried! Believe me, I did!

-sh*t… Come ’ere, kid. -said Phil, walking inside his trailer and opening beer can, handing Lance another one. -So what are you planning to do, huh?

-I tried to talk to him, Phil! I tried to explain him! But he won’t listen to me! He just treats me like sh*t! We just bought that Print Works, started to print some fake paper, and you know how much he’ll give me?

-No clue.

-30%!

-Why?

-‘Cause he says that “he’s the one doing the tough part” and I’m “only doing the minor business”.

-Sheeit…

-And that’s not all! Despite embarrassing me in front of the guards, he also keeps me outta his jobs!

-I don’t think you're very happy with this.

-No.

-So what do you want me to do?

-Phil, I dunno. I think he would hear you better than me. If you tell him about my brother… Maybe he’ll notice I ain’t stupid and he’ll start treating me like a partner!

-I can’t, kid.

-Why?

-Lance… I’m sorry. Tommy’s my friend now. Just like your brother was. If you have your problems with him and wanna make things right for you, then go ahead, but don’t count on me this time.

-But Phil, he won’t listen to me! sh*t! All you gotta do is talk to him!

-Lance, I told you, I can’t help you! I don’t wanna be involved in your organization crap. I don’t work like that-- By the way, this isn’t even a work for me, ok? Did I ever tried to be part of your brother’s sh*t?

-No, but you did helped us out when we needed help!

-‘Cause that’s what I though I should do as a friend.

-Ok, look, never mind, ok? I’ll try to sort it out by myself. See you, Phil.

-See you, kid. Watch yourself, ok?

-I’ll sure do. -said Lance, drinking the rest of the beer and leaving the trailer. He got in his Infernus and drove back to the Mansion.

 

-Yeah, yeah, ok *sniff* I’ll tell him, you wait there. -said Ken on the phone, snoring cocaine on the desk.

-What’s going on, Rosenberg? -asked Lance, getting in the office and sitting on a chair near the desk.

-Some sh*t’s going on Print Works. -said Rosenberg, calling Tommy on the phone. -Looks like a bunch of thugs went there and destroyed the whole place or something *sniff* Hey! Hello, Tommy? Tommy! We got a situation over at the Print Works. You better go and check it out. Some kind of mess or other. Things are messed up. I gotta go.

-Doesn’t Tommy care about you using that sh*t?

-Tommy? Nah, Tommy’s nice guy *sniff*.

-Yeah, right. -said Lance, leaving the office and getting into a room to watch TV.

“More information on yesterday’s bank robbery came to us this morning. It appear that three males, all dressed the same way and wearing hockey masks, walked into the El Banco Grande Corrupto at 6:30 PM and shot all the armed guards in the building. Two of them threatened to kill the manager if he didn’t gave them the safe code. The robbers murdered all of the hostages when the alarm went on. The SWAT quickly got in the scene after the murders and managed to stop two of the suspects. More information now, with SWAT Special Agent Jack Thompson.”

A black bald man with a moustache wearing a SWAT uniform appeared on the screen.

“Yeah it was a big mess. Me and my boys got in the scene soon after the alarm went on, and made a roadblock outside the bank, so the suspects couldn’t get out. I managed to take down one of them, identified as the wanted criminal Cam Jones, who was busted out a few weeks ago from our Vice Point police station by a group of heavily armed gangsters. Cam Jones was trying to leave the bank along with the other two unsubs. When these two men were walking through the door, another suspect, identified as the wanted illegal street racer Hilary King, parked a taxi in front of the door and attempted to kill the SWAT agents. He was taken down, but it created a distraction to us, which led to the other suspects’ escape. We are still investigating this crime, and as soon as we got any hard evidence regarding the identity of the criminals, we will allow our community to know. If you have any information that might lead to the arrest of the suspects involved in this investigation, please contact any law enforcement agency right now. The Vice City Police Department, as well as the Vice City SWAT division would like to give our condolences to the families of the victims.”

-sh*t. -said Lance, turning the TV off. -Maybe I shouldn’t be there, anyway.

 

Tommy had his blue suit covered in blood and was carrying a Ruger machine gun when he parked the orange PCJ-600 in the front of the Mansion and got in the hall.

-Tommy, what happened, man? -asked Lance, looking at the blood spatters on the suit.

-The Forellis came down here. They were trying to tax my businesses. It won’t be long until they come here and try to kill me.

-Then what are you gonna do? Maybe we could go to Los Santos and lay low for while and--

-No. I don’t care how many of them come over here. This is MY town. If the Forellis think they beat me, bring ‘em over, then we’ll see who the big man is. -said Tommy, walking to a bathroom to take a shower.

-Forellis… -said Lance to himself, getting back to the TV room and sitting on the couch. -So the Forellis are making their moves… It’s time for me to make mine.

 

Tommy was in the shower at the time. Lance sneaked in the main office while Ken Rosenberg was sleeping above a package of cocaine on the desk. He opened one of the drawers in the desk and picked up Tommy’s personal address book, and then he closed the drawer and left the room.

 

Lance was inside his Infernus, parked in an alleyway in Viceport.

-I’d like to speak with Sonny Forelli. -he said on the phone. -Tell him it’s about Tommy Vercetti.

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

Another non-action chapter, actually a small prologue for the ending.

Where are rashon and Zimmzy?

And please, beloved readers of this fanfic, rate the topic good if you like

[Brutuz]

Very good!

 

I've been Silent reading for a while now, This is in my Subscribed topics list!

[Sinful]

Thanks Brutuz.

Also, I'm already writing the new chapter. But I ain't gonna post it 'til I get a few comments from the last one

Plus, today I took some time to translate another project from portuguese to english... Dunno if I'll post it ever.

Edited December 26, 2006 by Sinful

[douchebag.]

I like you fanfic and also makes me wonder where president killer is..

[TonyZimmzy]

I like you fanfic and also makes me wonder where president killer is..

f*ck outta here, Palaric, you f*ckin prick

[Nick Papagiorgio]

I like you fanfic and also makes me wonder where president killer is..

f*ck outta here, Palaric, you f*ckin prick

Thank me for reporting him.

[Sinful]

Ok, fellas, I've finished the new chapter... But then again, I won't post it until I have a few more feedback posts.

[Blackadder.]

Nice chapter! I want more!

[Gouveia]

MORE SINFUL!! MORE!!!

[VicVance]

Yes,more!!!!

[Serafim]

Yea, nice chapter . Commented, now MORE, post it now! lol jk

[Sinful]

Chapter XVI - It’s the end of your little world

 

 

-I’d like to speak with Sonny Forelli. -said Lance on the phone, after dialing the number identified as “Sonny Bitch Forelli” in Tommy’s address book. It was sunset and the prostitutes were beginning to walk on the street looking for costumers.

-Who want to? -asked the Forelli thug on the phone.

-Tell him it’s about Tommy Vercetti. He’ll understand.

A few seconds later, Sonny’s voice was heard on the phone.

-Who’s talking?

-My name’s Lance Vance. I wanna talk to you about your boy, Tommy Vercetti.

-I don’t know any Tommy Vercetti.

-Cut the crap, man. You proly know I’ve been working with Tommy since he got here.

-Let’s say I do. What can I do for you?

-I heard you’re not happy with Tommy… I thought we could chat a little, work out a way of making Tommy see what he’s doing… He’s ignoring me, as well as you. He’s keeping me outta all his jobs, soon or later he’ll cut me outta the organization once for all… He pretends he don’t care about anything that’s going on around him. But I know, and so do you, that he can’t ignore what’s happening!

-I see. Look, we can’t talk about this on the phone. Why don’t you come over here in Liberty City?

-You crazy? Tommy would kill me if he knows I’m going to meet with you!

-So don’t tell him. Didn’t you say he’s ignoring you? Just take a plane over here; we’ll take care of you.

-And why should I trust you?

-You don’t have anything to do other than come here and trust me.

-I can trust Tommy.

-So why did you call me?

-sh*t… Alright, look, I’ll take a plane there. As soon as I got there I’ll give you a call.

-Good. -said Sonny Forelli, turning the cell phone off.

Lance started to think about everything. He was going to betray Tommy, talk to his worst enemy. Lance wasn’t going to kill Tommy, all he was going to do was try to convince Tommy that he could not mess with the Mafia, and think he was getting away with it.

 

Lance Vance walked in the Mansion and made his baggage. Tommy was not there, neither Ken Rosenberg. Lance took his two bags. One of them had clothes inside, and the other was carrying a M4 assault rifle, as well as dozens of clips.

He bought the first plane ticket to Liberty City and at 11PM he was there. When he left the plane, he went to the Airport hall and called Sonny Forelli.

-Forelli. Vance here.

-Hey, Lance boy. You already made your mind?

-Actually I’m already in Liberty. Now, if you could send someone to pick me up here… I’m in a white suit, it won’t be hard to find.

-Sure, sure… My boy Smith will be there in a minute.

Lance bought a coffee and slowly drunk it while sitting on a comfortable blue plastic chair. About a half hour later, a black modified ’84 Excess parked in front of the main entrance of the Francis International Airport. Three men were inside the vehicle, although only one of them left it and went to talk to Lance.

 

Sonny Forelli had told Smith Geraci to look for a black man in a white suit. There were not many people with that description in the airport despite the one sitting on a chair and drinking coffee.

 

-Hey. Are you Lance Vance? -the man in black suit asked Lance.

-Yeah that’s me. You are?

-Smith Geraci. Mr. Forelli would like to talk to you. My car’s right outside.

Lance finished his coffee, threw the cup in another chair, grabbed the briefcases and followed the man all the way to the Excess. The man opened the trunk and Lance put his baggage there. Smith got in the driver’s seat and turned the engine on while Lance sat on the backseat.

The two other passengers -one of them on the front seat and the other sitting aside Lance- were wearing black suits, which Lance thought was some kind of Mafia uniform. Smith was driving through the bridge connecting Shoreside Vale and Stauton Island when he looked behind and asked Lance:

-So, you ever been on Liberty?

-Ah… No. You know, my family always lived in Vice…

-Oh, it’s a great town, here. Good people… From the entire world!

-Nice… -said Lance. He wasn’t paying attention to the driver. All he could think of was what was going to happen to him if Tommy found out about that. Smith noticed Lance was not in the mood for talking, so he just quietly drove their way to the Saint Mark’s Bistro, the Italian restaurant controlled by Forelli Family.

When they got there, Smith -who opened the trunk so Lance could pick up his baggage- and the other Forelli associates left the car with Lance. The thugs went inside the restaurant, but when Lance was getting in, two goons stopped him. Lance was carrying his two briefcases and had a Colt45 hid in his pants. He was ready to take it, shoot the two men, hijack the black Excess and escape from Saint Mark’s if needed. One of the thugs walked towards him. He was going to search him for weapons. When he felt the Colt45 in Lance’s pocket, he picked it up and said:

-Don’t worry. You can take it back when you’re out. It’s just Mr. Forelli’s orders. What do you have on the cases?

-Huh… Stuff that I think better leave here. -said Lance, handing his briefcases -including the one carrying the M4- to the Forelli goon.

The goon felt the weight of the M4 case.

-What’s in here?

-Nothing that I think I’ll have to use.

The thug looked at Lance, then at the briefcase, opening it. He found the M4 inside it and said:

-Well, you got that right. Just like your gun, this here will stay with us ‘til you leave.

-Alright, no problem for me, man.

The security guards opened the doors of the restaurant, allowing Lance’s entrance. His two briefcases were outside. Only few people -most of them Italian-Americans wearing suits- were having a late dinner inside. The fat Sonny Forelli was sitting in one of the tables, drinking wine from a crystal goblet. He was wearing a baby-blue tank shirt -which was stretched to fit his big thorax- and brown cotton pants. He looked like he didn’t belong there, even though he owned the place -and probably all the people inside it-.

Lance looked for someone old, with a moustache, and wearing a black suit -his own stereotype of a Mob boss-. There was no one like that, so Smith came over to him and pointed at Sonny Forelli.

-That’s the guy you gotta talk to. Mr. Forelli over there.

Forelli looked happy -in an evil way- to see Lance.

-Hey, Vance boy! Come here, sit down. -Lance walked over to Sonny’s table and sat in a chair. -So, you came here to talk business?

-Yeah, I think that--

-Wait. You came here to talk business -said Sonny, drinking some wine from his cup. -But we don’t talk business this time of the day. We’ll talk tomorrow about Tommy’s issue. Today you’ll sleep here.

-Here? But I don’t know this city! Is there a hotel around here?

-No, I mean here, at the restaurant.

-But it’s a--

-We have guest rooms in the top floor. Have a good night of sleep, get your mind straight, you can ask for anything you want: food, drinks, whatever. And tomorrow, during breakfast, we’ll talk about that. Is that fine to you?

-Yeah, whatever. The guy outside took my clothes, though…

-Don’t worry about it. Smith there will get you to your room; you go take a shower, eh? When you get outta shower, your clothes will be there.

-Fine then.

-Have a good night, Mr. Vance.

Smith got up from his chair in the other table and said:

-C’mon, I’ll show you the room.

Lance followed Smith through the dark wood stairs, passing through a corridor full of paintings made by anonymous Italian artists in the walls. Smith stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it with his key.

-Ok, man, here’s the place. I think everything’s fine, but if you need anything just dial 9 on the phone over there -said Smith, pointing at a phone above a small table. -But listen, this ain’t no hotel; so if you need any food or drinks, you better ask now.

-Nah, I ain’t hungry. I ate at the plane… But I’d appreciate if you could bring me a beer.

-Alright. I’ll be right back. -Smith said while leaving the room and closing the door.

The guest room looked just like a hotel room. It had a king-size bed, with high quality sheets and two pillows on it, made of duck feathers. The carpet was light blue, and there was small table with a telephone right next to the bed. A ceiling fan was turned on, and the bathroom was cleaner than Lance could possibly think. He took his white suit off and threw it on the bed. Walked to the bathroom and took a shower. When he got out, his bag full of clothes was opened in the bed, along with an empty glass and a bottle of beer in the phone table. He wore his underwear, closed the bag, drunk the beer, and went to sleep.

 

Someone was knocking on the door. Lance woke up and the person outside said:

-Vance! Breakfast time, wake up!

-I’m coming! -answered Lance, getting up from the bed. He went to the bathroom, washed his face and grabbed his cloth bag. He picked up a black and white striped t-shirt and jeans pants. A few minutes later he was downstairs.

 

Sonny Forelli was dressed pretty much the same way he was the night before -except that this time the shirt was red. He was drinking coffee and watching Johnny’s Angels marathon on a small TV. Lance walked to Sonny and sat on a chair.

-Lance Vance. How ya doin’?

-I’m fine.

-Good… -said Sonny. He waved, indicating that the thugs should leave the room, so he and Lance could speak alone. The table had Italian breads, a wine jar, and a coffee bottle. Sonny; the gentleman he was; served Lance with a goblet of wine and a bread with butter on it. Lance looked at the food, and then looked at Sonny.

-Don’t you people eat bacon with eggs here?

-What? This is an Italian restaurant. Besides, I try to keep my Italian roots as much as I can. Anyway. -said Sonny, turning the TV off while Lance put the wine away and served himself with coffee. -Good times are over. We now must speak straight, you and me. This is the moment of taking the decision of our lives. Well, maybe not mine, only yours, but whatever. I hope you’re prepared to hear what I have to say.

-I don’t know what your problem is with Tommy. But I’ll have to smart if I wanna save my ass from all this. I heard you sent some guys to tax Tommy’s businesses down there.

-And they had an unfortunate ending, yes, I know… So, the way I see it, you and Tommy did it naturally so far. I mean, anybody with a bit of brains would do that. But then we came to the part were our interests confront each other. I know you tried to convince Tommy to give you a fair cut. Even maybe tried to convince him to give me my cut, I don’t know. But then again Tommy shows his real self. A, forgive me the word, self-righteous asshole. Then you remembered that Tommy was once working in this very town, to my Family. And also that we sent him down to do us the dirt work. Tommy did it. Not for us, but to himself. He should know that, once you’re in the Family; once you’re made, you can’t quit. You either work or die. Now, Tommy has gone too far this time, by killing my associates like that. -said Sonny. Lance was drinking his coffee and staring at Sonny, absorbing each word he was saying, and each word was making sense. -We’ve came to a point that I can’t either let him live or escape. You’ve came here because you know who really owns that organization. Me, Sonny Forelli. And I appreciate your coming. You can still give up now, you know, and stay along with Tommy. But then you would be my enemy. And I don’t think anyone would like to be an enemy of the Family.

-I wasn’t exactly thinking of killing him. My plans were of coming here, convince you to talk to him down there, then maybe he would realize what’s going on and he’d pay you…

-Heh. You really think Tommy Vercetti would do that? -Lance didn’t answer. -Do you?

-Maybe you’re right. But you’re asking me to kill Tommy. What makes you think I’d do that?

-You came here. -said Sonny, smiling and drinking the rest of his wine. -Wasn’t that an act of friendship?

-I did it for Tommy. He’s outta his mind. He thinks he can kill you and the Mo-- You and your “associates”. And I know that even if you die, there won’t be any hope for him; and myself. Your friends would never stop until they kill us both, anyway. He could’ve left the city or paid you ages ago, but instead he just stands there waiting to kill you. I came here to make a deal. That you would make him pay and leave us alone there.

-Is that the reason? -said Sonny, with an ironic voice -Because as far as I know, you’re only here because Tommy’s not treating you well. You’re being childish. We’ve came to the end of the line. Tommy’s too dangerous to stay alive.

-I wouldn’t be alive if anyone knew I betrayed Tommy. -said Lance, finishing his Italian bread.

-Would you be alive if we decided to attack Tommy? It’s the end of your little world. You and Tommy have been ruling Vice City for a while, but that was just a child’s game. This here. -said Sonny, looking around the room. -This is reality, kid. Now, you can stick up to him until his complete destruction, or you can leave that world and live in another one.

-Even if Tommy’s dead, he has a lot of associates now. One of them would kill me soon or later.

-You can have my word: the Forelli Family will protect you at all costs.

-Hell, even if it was Christ protecting me I wouldn’t last long.

-It’s still worth a shot, isn’t it?

-I guess so. So there’s no other way than killing him, right?

-No. Now, see: I don’t wanna stay on Vice City myself and run things around there after Tommy’s gone. If we actually do this, Vice City will be yours. We’ll be partners.

-Partners? Hell, that’s what I thought Tommy and I were.

-Do you think we would last long if we didn’t look after our own? You’ll be one of ours. Get this straight: Tommy has changed. He’s no longer your friend, your business partner. He’s only a man sticking up for himself. Which’s what I think you should do right now.

Lance stared at Sonny eating a bread and drinking wine for minutes.

-I’ll do it. -Lance said.

 

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

My fav so far...

Edited March 23, 2007 by Sinful

[Nick Papagiorgio]

Very sexy chapter indeed, Sinful. Just one thing I noticed....

 

 

Lance bought a coffee and slowly drunk it while sitting on a comfortable blue plastic chair. About a half hour later, a black modified ’84 Excess parked in front of the main entrance of the Escobar International Airport.

 

Forgive me for asking, but shouldn't that be "Francis International Airport".