Viva Las Vegas

[nimAAmini]

Thanks for treat.

[Vercetti21]

Thanks guys.

 

*Updated the chapter recap. (Link in first post.)

 

I'm going to start on the next chapter now.

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 11: Suicidal Assault

 

Michael Sterling arrived at the hospital where his brother was recovering. He shoved the 8mm he had stolen from Jones into his back pocket and stepped into the lobby, where he took the elevator up to Jack’s room.

 

When he entered the silent room, Lana was sitting next to Jack, quiet and still.

 

“How’s he doing?” Michael asked as he gently closed the door behind him.

 

Jack quickly opened his eyes and turned his head, answering for Lana. “I’m alive, no thanks to you.” His face was bright and full of life, compared to how it had been earlier when he had nearly overdosed.

 

Lana giggled, and Jack smiled at her. “I’m done with drugs, guys. This is it. I’ve decided I’m going into rehab on Monday. From now on, I’m going to be clean.”

 

“Good,” muttered Michael, who sat down on the edge of the bed. “That’s good to hear.”

 

Lana and Jack both looked at Michael with disappointed faces. “Mikey, you don’t look too proud. What is it?”

 

“No, no,” Michael reassured him, “I am. It’s just-”

 

“Just what?”

 

“I found out who was involved in the attack my casino the other night. The guys who tried to kill me...”

 

Jack remained silent, allowing Michael to proceed. Michael sighed. “The mafia has been involved this whole time. Apparently, I was caught in the middle of a set-up.” When Lana and Jack continued to sit in silence, Michael pulled the gun from his back pocket and held it out into the open to show it off.

 

“Jesus Christ, Michael,” Lana steamed, “Don’t tell me you’re going to settle this yourself.”

 

Michael shrugged. “The cops can’t help me. They’re just as corrupt as the criminals in this town. Everyone thinks I’m dead, and right now the mafia is being weakened by a gang war. It’s the perfect chance to hit these guys back.”

 

“What do you plan to do?” Lana laughed nervously, “Get yourself killed?”

 

“I’m going to attack the leader head-on in an assault. The guy who organized it all.”

 

“Then I’m coming with you,” Jack coughed.

 

Lana glared at Jack as if he were crazy. “You too!?”

 

“No, Jack.” Michael sighed. “I didn’t come here to ask for help, I just wanted you to know. Besides, look at you. You’re in a hospital. You’re in no condition-”

 

“F*ck conditions,” Jack sneered as he leaned forward in the hospital bed, “I’m fine. Really Mikey – I am. We’re brothers, and we’d do anything for each other, no matter how crazy it may be. You’d do the same for me.”

 

Michael took a moment to think it through before he nodded. “Alright, Jack. Alright.”

 

Jack began to pull himself out of the bed, when Lana stopped them both. “Are you guys crazy? You’re going head-on against the mafia. You’re going to get yourself killed! Please, just let the police handle this. Don’t do this.”

 

“Sorry, babe,” Jack mumbled, “But this is something that’s got to be done.” He looked over at his brother and patted him on his shoulder. “We’ve got fifteen lost years to make up for. I owe it to him.”

 

Michael smiled. “Thanks, Jack.”

 

Both brothers quickly exited the hospital room, leaving Lana alone and in silence.

 

 

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

 

Benny Vitale stood in front of the sink in Vincent Mariano’s office, cleaning the blood from his bullet wound.

 

“We’re losing this war,” Vincent puffed from behind, blowing on one of his famous cigars.

 

Benny turned the faucet, shutting off the sink. “No sh*t. You think?”

 

“All we’re doing is pissing the Gambinis off even more. We’ve got to end this as soon as possible.”

 

Benny turned around and leaned forward onto Vincent’s desk. “Vince, I was there. I watched as my men – our men – fell dead right in front of me. We outnumbered them today, and they still nearly killed us all. You think I don’t know what we’re up against? There’s plenty of them to lose, but us? The Cosa Nostra is down to its last men. You’ve got to decide if you want to end this war now or not. There’s only so much time before all of us are killed.”

 

Benny slammed his sweaty fist down onto the table, and Vincent looked up to him. “Alright, Benny, since you know so much about leading this organization, what do you propose we do?”

 

“We fight them! They expect us to stay on the defensive because this is our town, but we’ve got to change up our game. We’ve got to attack them when they least expect it… tonight.”

 

 

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

 

Sitting quietly in Jack’s car in a vacant parking lot, Michael loaded a fresh clip into Jones’ gun. His eyes steadily moved from the pistol to what looked to be an abandoned building, which was the only known warehouse south of the Strip.

 

Jack also readied his weapon – a stub-nosed revolver he had always kept underneath his pillow at home. It was a tradition he picked up when his father would wake him in the night, ready for a beating.

 

“You sure you want to do this?” Michael nervously asked, “You know, I won’t think less of you if you back down now. None of this involves you, anyways. This is my problem.”

 

Jack sighed. “Mikey, let me tell you something. For all my life, I grew up in a world where I had to look out for my own back. I was so busy looking out for myself that I was never there to look out for my kid brother, and I know I wished that for once – just once – someone would look out for me; that someone would care about me.”

 

Michael forced a smile as the nervousness in his veins began to cease.

 

Jack smiled back, and continued. “You did that for me. You coming back into my life was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I mean that. You saved my life, Michael. And now it’s my turn to save yours. We’re brothers. We look out for each other.”

 

The brothers exchanged thoughtful glances, and for the first time in fifteen years, they actually felt like family again. Not like the disconnected family they had known all of their life, but a true family. A real family.

 

Michael breathed in deeply as his hand touched the door handle. “You ready?”

 

 

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

 

As Benny hurriedly exited headquarters and approached a Mercedes, he couldn’t help but notice the suspicious 1971 Pontiac Firebird in the vacant lot across from him. No one ever parked in that lot, at least, no one looking for trouble.

 

The vehicle was too distant to know if it were empty or not, but something about that car made Benny nervous. As he spun out of the parking lot to search for more Gambinis to prey upon, he couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.

 

 

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

 

“Is he gone?” Jack gasped, raising his head over the dash. In one instant, someone had exited the building they were about to assault. He hadn’t looked too friendly either. The brothers couldn’t help but wonder how many more of them were inside.

 

Michael recognized the man’s face. It was the main gunman from the casino massacre – the one Michael had witnessed blowing a woman’s face apart during her cries for mercy. He was the key, and Michael despised him. He was disappointed that he would not be able to kill the man then and there. But perhaps he could get some information first. This was his chance.

 

Michael flung the car door open, and sprang outward with his gun ready. Jack did the same. “Let’s go.”

 

The two men scurried across the empty lot towards the building. This was it. There was no turning back now. As they approached the main doors, Jack pressed his body against the adjacent wall, while Michael eased along towards the door. He raised his hand to the cold doorknob, ready for anything. And it all happened in an instant.

 

At Jack’s signal, Michael shoved his body into the door, which collapsed against the wall. The two brothers moved towards the middle of the massive room, aiming and firing at anyone they saw.

 

Screams of anger roared from the sudden shooting. “What the…?!”

 

“Who are these guys!?”

 

“Are they Gambinis?”

 

Several Mafiosi fell dead to both Michael and Jack’s weapons, caught by the element of surprise. Although some were able to answer the gunfire back with their own weapons, they were soon disposed of by a bullet to the face. Whenever Michael or Jack had to reload, they simply dropped their weapon and picked up another, ready to fire again.

 

An automatic spray of bullets from the second story crawled along the floor towards Michael, who just barely dodged it by leaping into cover – a weak crate in the corner of the room. “Jack!” he shouted over the maniacal gunfire, “I’m going upstairs!”

 

Michael sprang out from behind the crate and sprinted towards a lone metal staircase, where he squeezed off two oncoming Mafiosi from below. One of them dropped and rolled down the stairs, while the other simply flipped over the edge and onto the bloody, hardwood floor below.

 

Michael pressed his back against the wall, quickly catching his breath. He peeked around the corner and fired, killing some and wounding others. Surprisingly, the two brothers were unstoppable. They had originally thought this to be a suicide mission, but by catching the mafia off guard, they had clearly gained the advantage.

 

Although Michael knew that they were up against a group of about thirty men, he could tell that their numbers were quickly diminishing as both Jack and Michael picked off gang members one by one. They were down to their last men.

 

The man who appeared to be the leader of the group had been shot, and was lying on the ground helplessly as his only guards left fell dead in his presence. When every last guard was down, Michael and Jack waited a moment before emerging from cover.

 

The place looked like it had been hit by an atomic bomb. Bodies sprawled along the stairwells, and on both the first and second floors. There was an office in the back corner of the room, but it was empty. Lying in front of the door to the office was the leader, who was now crawling within the blood puddles to escape an approaching Michael. Michael fired a bullet into the man’s leg, which didn’t move after that.

 

“Are you Vincent Mariano?” Michael questioned with authority as he placed his gun against the man’s sweaty forehead. The man was just barely able to nod.

 

“So you’re the man behind it all, huh? I’m Michael f*cking Sterling, and nobody f*cks with me. Look around you, Vincent, these bodies belong to your men. And they’re all dead now because of you.”

 

Vincent coughed, and a spatter of blood emerged from his mouth. “Michael Sterling? You’re supposed to be dead…”

 

“Shut the f*ck up. I’m the man with the gun, so I’ll do the talking unless I ask you something.”

 

Vincent glanced around at his bloodied companions, still in shock about what had happened. He couldn’t move.

 

Michael pressed the gun even harder against Vincent’s head. “The gunmen who destroyed my casino,” he began, “one of them was leaving here when we arrived. Who was he?”

 

Vincent knew he didn’t have to say a word. He could have easily kept his mouth shut long enough to bleed out, leaving Michael clueless. But something compelled him to answer. He knew this was the end of his sinful life, but for once he felt like he had done enough crime. He saw now that Michael was a vigilante, and wanted nothing more than justice. Vincent admired that.

 

Maybe by helping Michael, it would redeem him of his life of evil. And even if it didn’t, he would at least die knowing that for once, he helped somebody. Especially if it meant going against his underboss, who he had now grown to despise.

 

“His name is Benny Vitale,” Vincent managed to mumble. “But I warn you – he is more ruthless than me.”

 

Michael loosened the gun. “I’m not afraid of anybody.”

 

In his last seconds of life, Vincent barely managed to smile – something he had not done in years. Michael was so determined that it inspired Vincent, and moved him. His eyes gently closed as every last ounce of blood left his body, and his mind shut off with the final thought that Benny Vitale, the most evil man he knew, would hopefully soon be put to rest.

 

Michael turned his head as Vincent died, locking eyes with Jack. “Benny Vitale is the last name on the list, Jack. The guy who destroyed my casino – my life.”

 

Jack nodded. “Let’s find the son-of-a-bitch.”

 

The two brothers left the gruesome scene, weapons at their side. They had come so close, but now it was time to finish the fight and end it all.

Edited February 23, 2008 by Vercetti21

[saltinespike]

I liked it, as always. Your climactic scenes go by very quickly, which kinda annoys me, but the writing is excellent. Great chapter. Waiting for more. Oh, and you misspelled "thought" in the end.

[Vercetti21]

Well yeah, all of the action-packed scenes are meant to go by fast - just as they would in a movie or real life. I try to pick off as much detail as possible without slowing the scene down, which I used to do a lot. Thanks for the heads-up, though, I'll try to balance that a little better.

 

EDIT: Just found the misspelling and corrected it. Nice catch. As I do with each chapter, I read over it 2 or 3 times before posting, but then again it was a common typo and I wrote it at 2 in the morning.

Edited February 23, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Chickstick]

saltine pretty much said it all. A great chapter, as always, and looking forward to the next. Edited February 24, 2008 by Chickstick

[Vercetti21]

Thanks guys. Surprisingly, I've had a lot of free time on my hands, so I am almost done with chapter 12. Then again, I believe it will turn out being the shortest chapter yet, followed by chapter 13, which will be one of the longer ones.

 

Anyways, my estimation was right in that after chapter 13, it's all over. So I hope you'll all stick around for a little bit longer.

 

EDIT: I will also update the Chapter Recap on chapter 11 shortly.

[longkissgoodnight]

Awesome chapter!

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 12: Aftermath of the Bloodbath

 

Benny Vitale was speechless at the horrific sight which lay before him. He had entered headquarters to find the center of power for the Cosa Nostra entirely wiped out. Bodies of his friends, family, and partners in crime lay scattered in a pond of blood, and on the second floor, the gruesome sight was even worse.

 

He knew who had attacked. It was the Gambinis, of course. Who else could it be?

 

A soft voice came from a man who appeared to be the only survivor of the bloody massacre, lying still and helpless within the corpses. “Mr. Vitale?”

 

Benny’s eyes shifted over to the dying Mafioso. “What happened?”

 

“There were two of them…” the man exhaled, holding his blood-stained abdomen as he spoke.

 

Benny kneeled down to speak to the man closer. “Two men? Just two Gambinis!?”

 

“They weren’t Gambinis…”

 

“What do you mean they weren’t Gambinis? How do you know? They are the only ones who-”

 

“It was Sterling,” the man interrupted. “Michael Sterling.”

 

Benny caught his breath as his eyes bulged. He was in complete and utter shock. “Impossible. Sterling is dead!”

 

“He lived, boss. He’s alive.”

 

Benny rose to his feet. “Where is Vince?” The Mafioso responded by pointing towards the office on the second floor. Benny climbed over countless bodies as he ascended the staircase and approached the office door, where his eyes caught sight of a cold and lifeless Vincent.

 

Vincent was Benny’s role model, his hero, and his friend. Although the two men rarely saw issues face-to-face, and although Benny had secretly always wanted to overthrow Vincent’s power over the Cosa Nostra, he could not help but feel guilty that he had not been there to protect Vince at his time of death.

 

And then he came up with a solution. Kill Sterling once and for all. He was the man who had caused this massacre to happen in the first place; the man who had taken the life of his beloved boss. And Benny would see to it that Sterling pay the price for a war against the mafia.

 

He knew exactly where to start: Claire Sterling. She was Michael’s wife, and had to know where he was. If he could get information from her, he could get his revenge against Michael. It was perfect.

 

Benny loaded himself with plenty of weaponry, as he knew he was going to need it. On his way towards the exit, the lone survivor stopped him again, grabbing at Benny’s ankle to get his attention. “Please, kill me.”

 

Benny grunted as he pulled his beloved Desert Eagle from his jacket and rested the barrel against the dying man’s forehead. The man slowly mumbled his final words. “You’re the last one, Mr. Vitale. Make us all proud.”

 

Benny squeezed the trigger.

 

 

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

 

When they arrived at Jack’s house, both Michael and Jack instantly hurried to the kitchen sink to clean the blood from their violent hands. They were pleased with what they had finally accomplished, but the gruesomeness was almost too much to handle. Sure, they had slaughtered the entire Vegas mafia, but they realized that murder was something that haunted them rather than satisfied them.

 

Lana emerged from the bedroom, and gasped as she watched both brothers cleansing their battle wounds. “You’re alive! Thank God, you’re alive!” Her arms wrapped around Jack from behind as her eyes sobbed with thankfulness.

 

Jack turned from the now crimson-stained sink to face his girlfriend, and smiled as he peered into her tearing eyes. “Hey. Yeah, I am.”

 

Michael focused on washing every blood stain from his arms as Jack and Lana locked lips next to him. He knew they were in love. They would get married someday, and they would not end up like him and Claire; fighting all the time. Michael and Claire were two entirely different people who had made the mistake of rushing into a marriage, but Jack and Lana were a different story.

 

Lana rubbed the tears of relief from her weary eyes and cleared her throat before speaking. “I called work today. I quit at Pink Flamingo.”

 

“What?” Jack gasped. “What are we going to do about money?”

 

“I’m tired of being a stripper, Jack. I’m tired of that lifestyle. I want to go back to school, get my degree, and move on with my life. There’s something better out there for me in this world, Jack, and I want you to come with me.”

 

Jack nodded. “You know I’ll always support you.”

 

The couple hugged, and Michael smiled. Maybe what Jack had said earlier was true. Maybe by Michael returning home to his family, he had saved them. He had helped someone repair their shattered life without even realizing it, and in doing so, it had helped him to repair his own life.

 

Maybe he didn’t need his flashy casino, expensive liquor, or unimaginable power anymore. Perhaps all this time he had been fighting for a better lifestyle rather than his old lifestyle. Maybe everything was perfect now, the way it was.

 

And as he continued to cleanse his bloody hands, a single tear ran along his bruised face.

 

 

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

 

Benny Vitale sat alone in a Mercedes, just outside of Claire Sterling’s home. Although he had taken along an array of automatic firepower with him in the trunk of the car, he decided that his Desert Eagle would suffice for now. He loaded it into his leather jacket, pulled the key from the car’s ignition, and casually exited the car.

 

He ascended the front steps to the mansion, observing the quiet, suburban neighborhood around him. When he approached the front door, he pounded his fist against it multiple times and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Sterling! Open up! It’s the Las Vegas Police! We have some information regarding your husband.”

 

The door was flung open, and Claire Sterling stood speechless in the doorway. “Michael? What did that asshole get himself into now?”

 

Benny lunged at her, grasping at her neck as he tackled her down to the floor. She screamed, but Benny was quick to muffle the sound with his own hand. He sent a single punch across her face, and Claire’s vision went black.

 

 

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

 

Michael, Jack, and Lana each shared a single cigarette as they passed it around to each other, sitting in front of the television in the living room.

 

“Breaking news,” alarmed the anchorman as the television program was interrupted by a newscast, “Police have just discovered the hideout of infamous Las Vegas mob boss Vincent Mariano. Several witnesses say they heard gunshots coming from what they thought to be an abandoned warehouse, and when police were called to the scene they discovered what Police Chief Ronald Sager described as ‘a horrific sight’.”

 

The police chief’s face flashed onscreen, and his name appeared below as he gave his testimony. “We went in and there were bodies everywhere. Everyone was dead, including Mr. Mariano. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

 

The anchorman returned to the screen. “Police also believe the incident to be related to the casino shooting on ‘The Royal’ last week, but details have yet to be uncovered.”

 

“Oh my God,” Lana gasped, “I can’t believe it. You two actually did this.”

 

The anchorman continued as an old mug shot of Vincent’s face appeared to the left. “Mr. Mariano has been a ‘terrorist of crime’ in the city for the past twenty years, and---” The newscast carried on and on, leaving Michael, Jack, and Lana in complete silence.

 

 

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

 

Claire Sterling awoke in a daze, as the man who had just attacked her stood in front of her, waiting for her to return to full consciousness. She tried to move, but was restrained by the ropes which bound her to her chair.

 

Benny slapped her across the face. “You’re married to Michael Sterling, so you must know where he is.”

 

Claire shook her head. “Michael and I are separated. F*ck you, you son-of-a-bitch.”

 

Benny made eye contact with her, nodding. “So that’s the way it’s going to be…” He quickly pulled the Desert Eagle from his jacket and fired two painful shots into her left kneecap. She screamed, and tears quickly emerged from her swollen eyes.

 

“Michael shot and killed a good friend of mine today. Did you know your husband was a murderer?” Benny leaned closer and brushed the side of her face with his gun. “Now you can be a good girl and tell me where he is, or you can continue to be the bitch that you are and we can do this the hard way. I got plenty of shots in this gun to use on you.”

 

Claire’s sobs grew louder as she cried for help. “Shut the f*ck up!” Benny ordered, firing another bullet into her stomach to silence her. “Tell me where he is, you f*cking c*nt!”

 

He raised the gun again, but Claire squealed in submission. She didn’t care anymore. She had never cared for Michael anyways. His money was the only thing that was ever important to her. “Please, stop! I’ll tell you everything I know.”

 

Benny impatiently waited for her to speak again. “I saw him at a bar the other night,” she began, “Told me he’s been staying with his brother, Jack.”

 

Benny leaned closer, forcing the gun against her head. “Where does Jack live!?”

 

“On the East side of town! Michael’s childhood home. He’s been hiding out there for the past week.” She proceeded to give her interrogator exact directions to the location, hoping that in return she would be set free. It then became more of a professional hit on her husband rather than a threat to kill him. She realized that if Michael were killed, she would inherit all of his money. It was perfect.

 

Benny nodded as Claire’s words transformed from panicked mumbles to confident overtones. It was clearly obvious now. She wanted him dead. All she had to do now was convince Benny to let her live.

 

“Please, don’t kill me! I’ll give you anything! Please!”

 

Benny chuckled, the maniacal laughter sending a chill down Claire’s spine. “What do you have that I could possibly want?”

 

Claire pondered a moment, and glared downward into her lap. With her eyes, she pointed to the moist area between her legs, and glared back up at Benny. She had always liked a man with power.

 

Benny sneered. “I can get a lot better pussy than yours, bitch. You’re a f*cking whore.”

 

Claire tripped over her words as she struggled to conjure up another offer. She finally settled on offering half of the inheritance if it meant she were allowed to live. “Well, I’m Michael’s wife. If you kill him, I’ll inherit his money. We can split it fifty-fifty, down the middle between you and me!”

 

Benny considered the offer a moment, but casually shook his head. “It’s not about the money anymore. This is personal.”

 

Benny quickly placed the Desert Eagle against her forehead again, and she realized that her attempts to win Michael’s fortune were hopeless. He smiled as he squeezed the trigger, sending a powerful bullet into Claire’s brain. The recoil sent her body backwards in her chair, and by the time she landed on the floor, a waterfall of blood had emerged from her shattered face.

 

“Stupid bitch,” Benny muttered.

 

And as Benny set off from Michael’s home to finally earn his sweet revenge, the remains of a backstabbing tramp that once was Michael’s wife were left behind to rot in a pool of corrupt blood.

Edited February 26, 2008 by Vercetti21

[saltinespike]

MORE, MORE, MORE!!!

[Chickstick]

Magnificent.

 

Seriously, this is brilliant. I could never write something as good, as fast paced, as absorbing as this. Looking forward, as always, to the next chapter.

[TubbyJ]

Dammit, I'm falling behind again!

 

I'll try and get caught up on this and BB&B soon, school's a bitch though.

[longkissgoodnight]

Awesome chapter vercetti.

[Vercetti21]

Thanks everyone. As I said before, this story is only 13 chapters, so last chapter coming up next. I'll probably have it out by next weekend, but I can't promise anything.

 

As a whole, how have you guys liked where the story has gone so far? What do you think I could have improved on? And what are your expectations on what is going to happen in chapter 13? I'm curious, really.

 

Anyways, it's going to be epic, and I'm really trying hard to make this one the best chapter of all.

[longkissgoodnight]

I loved your story - to be honest I must say everything was perfect - I am really hoping for a sequel.

[Chickstick]

I am really hoping for a sequel.

Quoted for truth.

 

To answer the question, I love how this has gone so far. It seems that it was ages ago when I read the prologue- which as I recall you later removed- to this back in October, November (?) time. Your writing was good then, but reading through the whole thing again like I just have now you can see a definite improvement.

 

You should be proud- it will have to be something very, very good from you to write a better story than this- but I wouldn't be at all surprised if you did. Well done.

[Vercetti21]

Once again, I appreciate the support you guys have given me on this project. Chapter 13, the final chapter, will (most likely) be out later today. Also, I've updated the Chapter Recap with chapter 12, so everyone can get caught up with the story while waiting for chapter 13.

[saltinespike]

God damn man, don't get me edgy like that. Haha.

[Vercetti21]

Chapter 13: The Last Stand

 

Benny Vitale loaded a round into his rusty AK-47 and strapped it onto his back, retrieving a pair of Uzis from the duffle bag full of armaments he had brought along with him. Beneath his jacket, he always concealed his Desert Eagle, and below his belt was a switchblade he had used to kill an entire street gang with once.

 

“This is it,” he mumbled to himself, lighting up a cigarette as he stared at the house before him. It was the same house Claire had described just before he killed her; the house Jack, Michael’s brother, lived in. Hopefully Michael would be there. Hopefully, Benny would get his revenge.

 

Under his breath, he whispered, “This is for you, Vince.” He quickly stepped out of the Mercedes and stormed over to the front door of the home, where he attempted to ring the busted doorbell. When it did not work, Benny slammed his fist against the door and stood back.

 

“One second!” a male voice impatiently shouted from the other side. Benny readied his Uzis, clenching them tightly within the grasp of his sweaty hands. He took a deep breath. This was his chance to kill Sterling; the man who had murdered his beloved boss and the Cosa Nostra.

 

When the door suddenly opened and a man appeared, Benny smiled. He raised his gun and squeezed the trigger. A spray of bullets scattered across the man’s chest, and his now gruesome body plopped carelessly onto the bloody floor.

 

 

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

 

“Jack!” Lana cried, just as Jack’s body went limp and fell backwards in the doorway. She tried to run to his side, but was restrained by Michael from behind.

 

“Stay back!” Michael ordered, “Do you want to get killed, too!?”

 

He could barely think. In a matter of seconds, his brother and best friend had been shot and killed, right in front of him. Why? He had just gone to answer the door, and whoever it was who had shot him – wait – who had shot him? That was when Michael saw the man’s face.

 

The face of the man who had obliterated Michael’s casino was the same face of the man who Michael had seen leaving the mafia headquarters earlier. And that was the same face who had killed Michael’s brother just now. Michael knew who he was. It was Benny Vitale.

 

Benny raised one of his Uzis and quickly fired a spew of bullets in Michael and Lana’s direction, but Michael was quick to grab the girl and drop to the ground behind the living room couch. The two waited a moment for the gunfire to cease, and swiftly darted across the room.

 

“Get back here, Sterling!” Benny roared from behind. He raised the Uzi again and squeezed a few shots into Michael’s left leg. Michael dropped to the ground. Lana screamed.

 

In the short time it took for Benny to realize that the Uzi had now been clicking empty and had to switch to the Uzi in his other hand, Lana had already helped drag Michael to safety – a bedroom just opposite of the staircase.

 

Behind the closed door, Lana whispered to Michael, “There’s a gun upstairs in the bedroom.”

 

“I have to get to it,” Michael responded, grasping at the bullet wounds in his thigh.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Lana asked frantically, pressing her back against the door to keep the room safe from the invader outside.

 

Michael’s eyes scanned the empty bedroom, and fixated themselves on Jack’s car keys, which rested on the chestnut table beside the bed. Michael grabbed them and tossed them into Lana’s hands. “Get to the car and wait for me there,” Michael ordered, “If I’m not out there in three minutes, I want you to go to the cops.”

 

Michael limped over to the window and pulled it open, motioning for Lana to step outside. “I’ll create a distraction when I go for the gun,” Michael grunted, “Now go!”

 

Lana hesitated as she squeezed herself through the open window and into the bushes outside the house. When she moved to the car in the driveway, she would have to pass by several windows from the living room, giving Benny a clear shot of her. She would have to wait for Michael to go for the gun before she could move.

 

Michael took a deep breath as his hand clenched the bedroom doorknob. When he stepped outside, he would have to move right past an armed Benny and dart up the stairs across the hall. If Michael could make it to the top of the stairs, the other bedroom would be right there, and he would be safe.

 

He tightened his fist. Pushing against the door, he flung it open and dashed out of the bedroom. The door swung wide against the wall, slamming into Benny’s mouth in the process. Benny painfully grasped his face, accidentally dropping the gun. As Michael ran up the stairs, Benny realized that he would not have time to reach down, pick up the weapon, and fire again. Instead, he dove for Michael’s waist, grabbing at it and pulling the man down from the stairs.

 

Michael fell backwards in Benny’s grasp, and the two men struggled to gain control over the other. Michael shoved his elbow into Benny’s gut behind him, but Benny countered the attack with a powerful punch across Michael’s skull.

 

When Michael landed on his back, Benny pulled himself onto him and forced his powerful fist into his face several times, contorting his bloody mouth in the process. Michael squealed between Benny’s punches, and a flashback occurred. Instead of Benny, Michael saw his own father on top of him, beating Michael to near death.

 

Michael looked into the man’s face. Benny was not just one of the main criminals in the city who had wanted to destroy Michael’s life, but Michael saw him as a symbol of his dark past; the past which involved his father beating on both his mother and himself.

 

But Jack had always stood up for Michael in the past, and fought back against their drunken father. Now that Jack was dead, there was no one to rescue Michael from his tormentor. Michael would have to be his own hero, and could no longer rely on anyone else to save him. This was his chance to save himself, as well as avenge his admired brother. This was his last stand.

 

Michael surged with power, and forced Benny off of him. He stood to his feet, roaring with anger against his oppressor. When Benny fell backwards, he noticed the gun he had dropped earlier, lying on the ground and almost begging to be used. Benny grabbed for the Uzi, but when Michael saw this, he dashed for the stairs.

 

Another spray of bullets painted the wall behind him as Michael dove into the upstairs bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind him, locking it in the process. He turned his back against the door and moved his eyes across the room. Spilling out from underneath the bed was a box of unused shotgun shells, and behind them was the weapon they belonged to. It was the only answer to the problem now. There were no windows in the room. The shotgun was Michael’s only escape.

 

After making sure it was loaded, Michael grasped the gun tightly, also keeping the box of shells at his side. When he took a deep breath, he stormed from the room and ran to the top of the stairs again, ready to dash for the front door. But it was no use. Benny stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. He fired the rest of his Uzi ammunition up at Michael, who was able to squeeze out a single shotgun blast, knocking him backwards at the recoil. Both men missed.

 

Benny tossed his last, empty Uzi aside and grasped the AK-47 from his back. When Michael appeared from cover again at the top of the stairs, he fired off another shot. Benny responded with the loud, automatic firepower.

 

Michael stepped into cover again and loaded two more shells into the shotgun. He was trapped. As long as Benny was in the way of the door, Michael could not escape. He only had a limited number of shotgun shells, and knew that if the shootout were to continue, he would be left unequipped. He would have to run.

 

Michael’s eyes moved to the door at the end of the hall. The following room had a window in which Michael could escape from. He didn’t have much time left before Lana would leave outside.

 

Michael sprinted down the hall towards the door, with Benny close behind him, firing his furious machine gun all the while. When Michael stepped through the doorway, he shut it behind him. After locking it, he did not waste a single second in opening the window.

 

Michael pulled the latch on the windowsill and pulled upward. As he raised his foot to kick the screen out of the way, a projection of bullets exploded into the room. Benny was now shooting through the door.

 

Michael dropped to his stomach and crawled into cover. He waited for the bullets to continue to rain into the room, and when he heard Benny reloading on the other side of the door, Michael rose again. There was no time to spare. Michael kicked out the screen and peaked his head out the second story window. It was a long drop, but parallel to the window was a tall, bulky tree that almost invited Michael into its arms.

 

Michael took a deep breath and dove outward, grabbing a branch to help break his fall. He collapsed into the tree, and several of the lush vines followed his descent to the ground. He stood to his feet and looked across the front lawn. He was in luck; Lana had not left yet.

 

Michael ran over to the car and rushed inside, resting the loaded shotgun in his lap. “Go, go, go! Drive!” he frantically ordered.

 

Lana put the car in reverse and squealed out of the driveway. She quickly shifted into first gear and sped across the residential street. Michael struggled to catch his breath as he peered into the car’s rearview mirror.

 

Michael’s eyes followed Benny as he sprinted outside from the front door of the home and across the street to his Mercedes. He was on to them now.

 

 

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

 

The chase was on. Lana swerved the Pontiac Firebird around a corner and onto a busy street, exiting the residential neighborhood. Soon after, Benny’s Mercedes followed suit.

 

“Turn left,” Michael commanded, pointing to an upcoming intersection. The light was red, but Lana ran it, quickly shifting into a lower gear and spinning the wheel in a 180-degree turn. The Firebird just barely squeezed between two oncoming cars.

 

Michael glared into the mirror. Benny ran the light as well, and was close behind them.

 

The two vehicles sped along the twisted, Vegas streets alongside the afternoon traffic, sometimes bumper-to-bumper, other times several blocks apart. To Michael and Lana, it was almost hopeless to lose their violent pursuer.

 

Michael reloaded the shotgun, and Lana trembled. “What are you doing?”

 

“Getting rid of him,” Michael grunted, cocking the weapon and raising himself through the passenger window. Michael rested himself between the opening, aimed towards Benny’s pursuing Mercedes, and fired. Benny swerved to the left, and back to the right. Michael missed.

 

Michael raised the gun again and fired another shell. This time, a wall of shrapnel painted Benny’s front bumper, but both vehicles continued to drive at high speeds.

 

Michael lowered himself into the car and began to reload again. He was quickly running short on ammunition. Lana sped from the access road over onto the freeway. The freeway led away from downtown and outwards towards the desert, but the chase continued. Lana floored it and the engine roared with power.

 

Benny pulled his Desert Eagle and fired maniacally as an entire round of bullets plagued the back of Jack’s Firebird. Michael answered the gunfire with his own, firing another two shots towards Benny’s Mercedes.

 

As the two vehicles sped along the near-abandoned roadway and further into the desert, the traffic around them decreased, until finally, Benny’s Mercedes and Jack’s Firebird were the only two cars in sight. They were now approaching a steep curve, which hugged an empty cliff side. Past the turn was what appeared to be at least a two-hundred foot drop; a distant fall into nothingness.

 

Just as Lana began to spin the car around the curve, Benny, who was just behind them, had loaded another clip into his Desert Eagle and was already firing again, only this time, he was able to fire two bullets into the Firebird’s left tire. The Firebird sped out of control, and Lana slammed on the brake. Only seconds away from the sharp cliff, Michael rose from his seat with the loaded shotgun for the last time.

 

He carefully aimed towards Benny’s Mercedes in the slow, final seconds of the car’s skid, and just as he fired the second shell, he watched Benny twitch and lose control of his vehicle. Michael had fired a shot right into Benny’s chest. A river of blood emerged through the shattered windshield, and Benny’s car careened off course.

 

Lana quickly took control of the Firebird’s skid and desperately swerved the wheel away from the cliff. The car flipped and landed on its roof in the middle of the roadway, gliding into the weak barrier which protected it from the steep cliff side.

 

Seconds away from losing consciousness, Michael watched Benny’s Mercedes continue through the barrier, rather than turning, and descend from the roadway into the abyss. Seconds later, a loud, violent explosion followed. Benny was dead.

 

The smell of smoke flooded Michael’s nostrils, and his vision went black.

 

 

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

 

Michael awoke on the side of the road moments later, face down in the dirt. The car was entirely engulfed in flames. His hands were restrained from behind by metal cuffs, and when he stared up, Lana was glaring down over him, and the faint sound of sirens could be heard echoing in the distance.

 

“Lana? What happened?”

 

Lana disappointedly shook her head and pulled a badge from her pocket. Michael watched the glimmering sunlight reflect off of it as she spoke. “That’s Detective Lucy Grey, actually.”

 

“What the f*ck? You’re a cop?”

 

Lana – or as she called herself, Lucy - leaned forward, inching closer into Michael’s face. “For two years I’ve been undercover, Michael, trying to bring down the crime ring that has plagued this city for years.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Lucy smirked. “I mean you, Michael. Your casino. The mafia. The drug trade. I took a job as a stripper to get close and personal, to work my way up the ranks of criminals, only to watch it get torn open from inside out by you. And thanks to you, you’ve brought down all of it. You did my job for me.”

 

“And all this time you pretended to be in love with my own brother, and you were just in it for the money? f*cking whore. You’re no cop. You’re crooked.”

 

Lucy smiled maniacally again. “You think I’m the bad guy? You’re the one who will be charged with murder, not me. And to think, you and Jack killed off the entire Vegas mafia yourselves. Shame to see that you’ll be serving prison time for that.”

 

The sirens grew louder. Lucy’s words faded softer. “Or will you?”

 

The words caught Michael’s attention, and his eyes locked into hers.

 

She leaned closer, almost whispering in his ear. “You know, there are benefits about being the kind of cop that I am. You think there are rules? f*ck them. The way I see it, I bring you in – you do prison time for life. But what crime did you really do? Yeah, you killed people, but your actions saved the city. The legal system is going to overlook that and put you right in jail.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

Lucy pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked Michael’s handcuffs, and as she helped Michael to his feet, she smiled at her words. “I mean – you’re a murderer on the run. A fugitive. And you got away – this time.”

 

She guided Michael to the center of the roadway and pointed outwards into the vast, empty landscape. From behind, the sirens were just nearby.

 

“You better go now,” Lucy advised, staring into Michael’s eyes. “While you have the chance.”

 

Michael didn’t know what to think. One minute, the girl he had once known as Lana had revealed herself to be a cop, and she was going to turn Michael in to the authorities, but the next – she was helping him.

 

Michael hugged Lucy quickly, and replied with a subtle, “Thank you.”

 

She nodded, and as Michael set off on foot towards the empty desert, he would begin a search for a new life. He was a criminal now, and his days as a casino tycoon were over. But did it matter? No. He didn’t need that lifestyle anymore. He didn’t want it.

 

For even the rich sometimes need to know that when they turn their back on the ones they love – the past will surely follow.

[saltinespike]

HOLY F*CKING F*CKSH*T. You sir, are awesome. Please contact a publisher immediately. Alas, the layout of the city is f*cked, which kinda annoyed me, but this was a great goddamn story. F*cking bravo.

[Vercetti21]

I'm glad. I was afraid I rushed the last chapter, and the twist at the end about Lana wasn't originally in the outline I had planned. But then it bothered me in the end that her character had nothing and nowhere to go.

 

And screw your stupid city layout - it's just a story and I'm not a f*cking geographer, okay?

 

Again though, thanks for the support to everyone.

[Don Garcia aka NjNakedSnake]

Man, you keep inspiring me to get my lazy ass writing Vercetti....

 

My problem is I get sidetracked easy. I have like 4 story ideas with about a page each, and then I start thinking up other plots and ideas. I have to pick 1 story and write it out completely.

 

I'm guessing you don't do that? You write, then post, then write, then post? I want to write a whole story and then consistently upload it in pieces.

[Vercetti21]

Yeah, I used to be like that, and in a way I still kind of am.

 

You just got to pick between plots - which is your favorite one? And then you stick with that.

 

And yeah, I write and post. Sometimes getting feedback between chapters can give me ideas - but it definitely gives you a motivation to write.

[Pat]

But... but...

 

It just can't be over. It feels like it just started yesterday.

 

[Don Garcia aka NjNakedSnake]

Yeah, I'm gonna pick a story I really like and write it out. Hopefully, by the end of March, I'll have finally posted something in the Writer's Discussion Forum.

[Oxidizer]

I'm too tired to right now, but I have every intention of catching up on the (I feel) many chapters I haven't read yet of this. Though from some of the feedback, I expect that this is still excellent as ever.

 

I'll use tomorrow as my catch-up day.

[Chickstick]

Chickstick applauds.

That was, in all honesty, one of the greatest things I have ever read. Michael Sterling is my God. Might we expect a sequel in the future?

[longkissgoodnight]

Awesome Vercetti! Great story. I loved it. But now if you don't mind me asking - what is next for you? Are you planning a sequel?

[Vercetti21]

I've left it open for a sequel, but we'll see what happens. I'm doubtful there will be one, and as saltinespike said, "sometimes you gotta leave a character alone." I feel that way about Michael Sterling, like following him around in his adventures as a fugitive would be a disgrace to the story or something. But like I said, we'll see what happens.

 

As for my next projects, I'm not telling yet. For now I am going to take a short break from writing so I can focus on school, work, and playing IV when it comes out.

 

Thank you everyone!

Edited March 13, 2008 by Vercetti21

[longkissgoodnight]

Ill be waiting.