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Mokrie Dela

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Mokrie Dela

Thanks for your continued support and posts.



Chapter two – Right Under Your Nose


Niko and Rami had spent a day keeping surveillance on the mercenary that worried their boss so.

“This can’t be a coincidence. He’s been running operations in Africa for the last year. For him to come back, here of all places, now of all times…” Their boss had shaken his head. Niko offered a suggestion; perhaps he was returning to live here. No, their boss had said, if he was adopting residence he would already have his home purchased. He was here for work.

And so it was that Niko and Rami had relieved the duo they looked upon as the ‘B’ team, and continued surveillance for another day. Heavy rain ensued, to Rami’s relief. No one would notice of men sitting in cars. A hot day, sitting in the car may be noticed, but when one is running for shelter, one’s mind is not looking at cars. And even if they were, the sheet of precipitation in the air and speckled rain on the windows did well to hide them.

With the rain still as heavy, the contact appeared, ducking straight into a cab. They almost missed him.

Africa dulled your tradecraft. Rami thought. The man had tried too hard to not look like he was rushing into the cab. He was like a bad actor. That made him stand out.

Niko put his car in gear and they followed, using the same technique as before.

The man was complacent. That much was obvious. A tail might have been easier to spot in Africa, in the backwards towns of war-torn, poverty riddled countries, but here, in Liberty City… The cab led them straight to Meadows Park.

Not a bad choice of venue, Rami observed. The rain had meant the park was mostly empty. There was the odd hardcore jogger, out against better judgment, and they saw one man walking a dog. The spot was good for the lack of cover, though Niko had a long range sniper, and his spot on the building to the west, north of the Monoglobe, offered him a decent view. Rami had parked his car on the road and used a monocular to see through the trees. His vision wasn’t fully clear.

“Where you suppose his backup men are staying?” Niko wondered aloud.

Rami replied with an unseen shrug. “Some cheap hotel probably. They would have made their own way here, and they’ll make their own way back. They’re not our concern though, disregard them.”

Luis drove the first car. Johnny was in the third. Karen drove in the middle, and members of The Lost filled the remaining seats. They parked their cars by the State Pavilion Towers. Karen, wearing a rain coat over a duffel coat, got out of the car and adjusted the rain hat that completed her ensemble. She didn’t look up, or around. Instead she was escorted by Luis and Johnny, who also worse clothes that hid their identity while looking like ways to keep themselves dry.


The primary subject – he was not yet a target, as they wanted to find out who he was meeting with – stood with a smart coat and an umbrella. Rami imagined him with a Trilby and a Tommy-gun. That thought made him smile. Both men watched as the secondary target began to talk.

“You got a visual ID on secondary?” Rami asked.

“No.” Niko’s reply was simple. “He’s got his hat pulled down low, and that thick jacket….” Rami’s view was obstructed. “Anything on the other men?”

“Negative. We’ll have to attempt a tail.”

“Split off?”

“No other option.”

“Ok. I’ll take the Primary, the mercenary.”

“Copy that, Niko. I’m on our mysterious Secondary.”


Karen resisted the urge to laugh. Actually she was too nervous to. She knew this mercenary… kind of. He’d done some work when she first joined the paper company. Those were days she’d rather forget, and it was only due to not having much else, after entrapping Niko Bellic that she stayed on. Her boss wasn’t that bad a guy really. He didn’t like Niko but after staying on, things were different for Karen. She was treated like more a professional and handled passive intelligence gathering. In short, she was the person who did the boring jobs, like watching an apartment for six days. She was kept separate to Niko, who she didn’t even think knew she still worked there.

But it was today’s irony that tickled her. Here she was, hiding from people, in a bright yellow raincoat. She couldn’t be any more conspicuous, but the weather was almost a gift from God, whose existence she had often questioned.

She spoke matter-of-factly – the way these kinds of men did. The man appreciated it, but he was a professional.


“Secondary subject is handing over a briefcase.” Rami observed.

Niko nodded before realizing Rami would need a vocal reply. “I confirm that.” The mercenary opened it. “Primary has opened case. Looks like…. Yes, it’s money.”

“Recruitment.” Rami noted.


The mercenary snapped the case shut before the money could get wet. He’d checked the piles and made sure it was all there. Seeing no shredded phone books, he shook Karen’s hand. She nodded, wondering if the man cared where the money came from, or if Yusuf Amir cared where it went.

“Meeting’s breaking up by the looks of it.” Niko said. A moment later Rami agreed.

Luis and Johnny led Karen to the cars.

“Luis.” She said without turning her head. “I want you driving my car.”

Luis frowned but shrugged with a single shoulder. “If you want, but why?”

“Paranoia I hope.”

“You want Johnny riding shotgun?”

Karen had done her research and knew how dangerous Johnny was with guns. She nodded and Johnny, who was mere feet away, spoke his acknowledgement.


“Niko, I hope you’re moving.” Rami said.

Niko was. He had to scramble to his car, parked on Savannah Avenue, hoping that Rami could hang around long enough to advise him on the Primary Subject’s direction.

“Change of plan, Niko. Primary subject is coming my way. Secondary is heading west. Three car convoy.”

“Got it.” Niko said as he reached the road. He turned his head north to see the cars exit Walton Lane. They turned north too.

Rami had parked his car in accordance to the direction of the traffic. That meant he was facing south, and the mercenary had turned south. He already had his engine on and decided for a bit of boldness. He pulled out in front of the mercenary – now riding with one of his men – and actually led them to the junction on Tudor street. He carried on south on Cleves, as did the mercenary. They followed him to Parr street, where Rami turned, heading west. The target carried on and, in his mirrors, he saw them turn west also.

He rejoined them on Howard Street and now followed them, two cars behind. He would continue to follow them along Huntingdon Street and over the Algonquin Bridge.

Niko had to play catch up, and gunned his engine. The secondary subject was clever. Their little convoy turned onto the expressway, backtracking. Niko followed them without incident to the airport. He saw them pull into the multistory car park, but he had to go round to avoid being detected. He parked by the train terminal and kept an eye on the multistory car park. If they moved on foot to the train station or airport terminal, he’d see them. He also had the car park exit covered.

No one left on foot. Instead the same three cars exited the multistory and headed to the loop. Niko moved to follow.


The worst possible thing happened. Well maybe not the worst, but it was pretty bad. The cars split up. Two took the turn for the Algonquin-Dukes Expressway and Niko didn’t notice the third peel off back onto the loop until it was too late. He was already in the underpass.

He swore. It was an obvious ploy, but it was obvious both ways. Either the subject had split from the convoy in the hope to lose any tails in the airport traffic, or it was a decoy. Both were obvious tactics, and something in his mind told Niko that it was too obvious. Niko stuck with the middle car and the remaining convoy, not that he had much choice.

Then it happened again. The middle car turned off of the expressway. Niko made an impulsive decision. If the first was a decoy, this decoy would be ignored by any tails, so that told him that the subject was trying to be smart.

But if the first wasn’t a decoy, then there’d be no reason for them to split…

Niko turned off.


As it happened, the car took left turn and merged with the southbound traffic on the Broker-Dukes Expressway. Niko followed them over the Broker Bridge where they pulled over in Chinatown. Four men got out and immediately Niko sighed in annoyance.


Luis, Karen and Johnny were, in fact, in none of the three cars. They’d changed cars in the car park and, after a ten minute wait, they set off. It was Luis’s idea actually. He wasn’t as dumb as he seemed.


Rami had more luck though. He tracked the mercenary back to the original hotel. They still had one lead.


Click Here to read the next chapter - Between a Rock and a Hard Place.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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Good job Mokrie. I love the fact that you pay lots of attention to detail, the weather, what they are wearing, etcetra

Story is slowly building up as well, keep up the good work mate


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Mokrie Dela

Here you go Pogo, Have a new chapter




Chapter Three – Between a Rock and a Hard Place


Karen had sent Luis and Johnny on a crash course in countersurveillance tactics. Johnny had hated it. His life had been direct. If someone was f*cking with you, your turned around and f*cked with them. Luis saw the advantage in the training though, but he didn’t particularly like it either. He just wanted to be back at Marionette, working the ‘floor and checking out the Bellezas.

And now they had to plant something on someone. Neither man understood why, but there it was. The target – the way that strange guy who’d ‘trained’ them spoke – was sitting at a café, oblivious to the two men, with his jacket slung over the chair across from him – so, Luis assumed, he could keep an eye on it.


Luis approached and nodded to get the man’s attention. “Oye, Hermano.” He said as he reached the table. Johnny saw the man tense. “Me pueden ayudar por favor?”

The man shook his head, his face twisted in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

Estoy perdido - Yo no soy de por aquí. Estoy en busca de la felicidad isla.

“I’m sorry I don’t speak… Me no comprende…”

Luis got the map out – something he’d seen one of the ‘bad guys’ do. “Err..” He said, holding the map over the table, “Happy Island?” He pointed at the map then shrugged. “¿Dónde estoy ahora?

The subject was about to say something – probably saying he didn’t speak Spanish – when Johnny bumped in to Luis. He stumbled and, hidden by the map, dropped the smart phone into the man’s jacket pocket.

Oye imbécil, mira por donde vas!” Luis said in an annoyed tone.

“f*ck off, amigo.” Johnny replied, disappearing into the building. Luis turned to the man at the table and shrugged, holding his arms out in a helpless gesture.

“Happiness Island?” The man asked, ignorantly raising his voice as many people do when talking to foreigners.

Luis nodded. “Si! ¿Dónde…?”

The man pointed behind him. “South!”


“Yeah, knock yourself out. Now f*ck off.”

“Oye, no hay necesidad de tener un coño…”

“Yeah?” The man said, reaching down to his crotch. “Right here pal.”

Luis walked off.


Niko and Rami had little rest. Their boss had wasted no time sending them back to the mercenary’s hotel. This time though, they were to enter the mercenary’s hotel room. The first half of the battle was finding out which room.

Rami took care of this. The men approached the desk clerk, and Rami pulled out a false LCPD badge. He showed it to the clerk who swallowed hard.

“What’s the matter boy?” Rami said, expertly dropping all hints of accent from his already Americanized voice. Even Niko had lost some of his accent. He remembered when Brucie came back from a business trip with his brother – a man whose existence he’d kept hidden from Niko for months – the bodybuilder had picked up a little accent to go with his tan.

“Nothing.” The clerk was young. Early twenties, maybe late teens.

“You sure.” Rami leant in, his stare as hard as his voice. “Not a stoner are you, son?” The boy flinched. “Oh you are aren’t you?”

Good cop, bad cop, Niko realized. He stepped in, trying his own American accent. “Give him a break, will ya? He’s just a kid. Haven’t we got bigger fish to fry?”

Rami nodded, mentally smiling at Niko’s improvisation. He went with it. “Alright. Listen kid, don’t sweat it. We’re looking for someone who’s staying in this hotel.” Rami showed the kid the photo he’d snapped of the target. It wasn’t a great one but good enough for the kid to recognise. “He checked in… yesterday at…” Rami looked to Niko who gave the kid the time.

The kid nodded. “I know the one. Seems like a nice guy.”

“Don’t be fooled.” Rami said with a shake of his head. “He’s not. I can’t tell you why; investigation and such and – well you watch cop shows on TV, right?”

The kid nodded. And gave the hotel room up.

“Good boy.” Rami said, walking off.

Niko leant in, a finger on his lips. “Not a word, ok? I shouldn’t tell you this but this guy’s got someone here in his pocket, so don’t say anything to anyone, ok?”

The kid nodded, scared halfway to death.


The elevator ride up was quiet. The only words exchanged were tactical ones. They reached the right floor and stepped out to see a familiar face.

The mercenary was waiting for the god-damned elevator!

Rami nodded at the subject. If Niko didn’t know him better he’d think he didn’t recognise him. The mercenary entered the elevator and, seconds later, the doors closed.

Niko opened his mouth to talk but Rami’s finger shot to his lips. He shook his head.

They reached the hotel door and checked the hallway.


Niko, with a hand in his suit jacket, kept watch while Rami worked on the lock. They had no way of knowing if anyone was inside, so they just stepped in, guns (both with suppressers on) coming out.


The first thing they did was to scan the room. They checked the entire place and, once happy that it was clear, began their search.

Rami first checked for any measures to alert the subject to his visitors – the old clichéd spy tricks, like a hair placed on drawers, or coins left precariously on top of doors.

“There’s nothing here.” Niko said, agitated. “So much for complacency, Rami.”

The Israeli ignored him and carried on looking. While Niko looked on the desk, and in drawers, Rami was looking under the bed, and pulling the drawers out completed to look in the cavities.

“Wait a minute.” Niko said after a minute, attracted by a digital noise. Rami turned to see a cell phone on the bed.

“Careless.” He observed. Niko picked it up. Both men wore surgical latex gloves and weren’t worried about finger prints. Rami noted Niko’s eyebrow rise. “What have you got?”

“Voice mail. Just came through.”

“Go on then.”


Niko played it, placing his own phone by the earpiece to record it. Rami had moved over and leant in to hear a male voice talk about men arriving, and a date. The message ended and Niko tapped another button.

“What you just do?” Rami asked with a frown. “You didn’t delete it did you?”

“No, I set it as unread.” Niko smiled.

Nice, Rami thought, pointing for Niko to put it back on the bed.


Both men’s heads turned as one as the scraping noise came from the door. They exchanged a panicked glance. He’s back!

“Hide.” Rami whispered, scrambling under the bed. Niko saw the door move open and followed suit, welcomed by a perplexed glance from Rami. Neither man spoke, but their guns were out.


The mercenary walked in to the room and stopped, looking around.

“Where the f*ck are you, you bastard?” He said through clenched teeth. Rami’s grip tightened on his gun, but he forced himself to relax. A tense gun-grip was not a good idea.

The subject moved toward the bed then exhaled through his nose. “Gotchya.” He said.


Click Here to read the next chapter - Final Boarding Call.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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Nice cliffhanger. tounge.gif Can't wait for the next!


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Mokrie Dela

You've gotta love cliffhangers. So wonderfully cliched, and by their very nature you know what's going to happen.


So let's find out (It's a long one folks):



Chapter Four – Final Boarding call


Niko and Rami watched almost helplessly as the pair of feet stopped right next to the bed. Rami had his gun out, and controlled his breathing. The legs stayed still for a moment then turned and headed back to the door. They watched the door open and, seconds later, the subject was gone.

Niko breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and Rami merely holstered his pistol.

“That was close.” Niko breathed.

“Yeah. How about we…” Rami gestured out from under the bed.

“Yeah.” Niko shimmied out and stood looking around as Rami followed.

“I think we’re done here.” Rami said, now standing. “Apart from forgetting his phone, this guy still remembers some things.”

“Pretty big thing to forget though.”

Rami shrugged and moved to the door, peering through the peephole. “We’re clear.”

Niko nodded and followed the Israeli out of the room.


They returned to the office and sat in front of their boss.

“Update me.” The man said curtly.

“We recovered a voice recording.” Rami said.

“At least you got something. Any lead of the one that got away?”

“No.” Niko said, pulling his phone out. “But the message we recovered mentioned support.” He slid the phone over to their boss, and pressed play.

The men listened, even though Niko and Rami had already heard the message. After it ended their boss nodded.

“I see. Well we should address this. As I’ve said, this is too much of a coincidence. Now the mercenary’s calling in his men.” The man took a breath and thought for a moment. “Alright. Get yourselves to the airport. I’ll arrange your flights. You’ll have some gear shipped ahead of you.”

The thing that annoyed Niko was sitting around, waiting. They received a phone call telling them that the gear would be waiting for them in Los Santos. Now they simply had to wait.





It was dusk when they landed, and they had a couple of hours until the targets’ flight was due. Even private flights sometimes had to adhere to air traffic schedules.

The targets, which belonged to a PMC associated with the mercenary waiting in Liberty City, were waiting in a private terminal lounge. Both Rami and Niko saw this as bad trade craft; each mercenary should have travelled between coasts independantly, and they shouldn’t be using the same airport, let alone the same flight. But, the Israeli had said to the Serbian, if it makes their job easier, why complain? Sometimes things did go your way.


They’d studied what material they could on the flight over, spending most of the time looking at the layout of the lounge – it was actually published in a newspaper which reported on a relatively recent refurbishment of the airport. A current photograph of the lounge was affixed also.

The trick was, they both saw at once, getting in to begin with. Once they’d collected their gear – which had been sent ahead somehow – they could hardly walk in through the main entrance. No this operation, Rami had said in observation, would have to be an extended one. First they’d need to – to use Rami’s words – penetrate the airport’s parameter - then infiltrate the terminal. All without detection, which would not only alert the mercenaries into fleeing, but bring down the wrath of anti-terrorist forces, because that’s exactly what their actions would be identified as; terrorism. After all, if one heard the words ‘attack’ and ‘airport’, what else would one think?

Collecting their gear had been the easiest and, in some ways, most stressful part so far. They had to navigate the streets of an unfamiliar city and its infamous traffic, which rivaled Liberty City’s, and locate the safe house. Luckily, their boss had supplied them with a list of safe houses and their addresses and with the aid of a sat-nav, the duo arrived on schedule.

The gear was as surprising as the safe house; that is to say not at all. The décor was cheap and boring and the most exciting item in the entire building was either the television – an old cathode ray tube – or perhaps the refrigerator. That was, of course, excluding the cache hidden inside. There were three crates of varying sizes. The first, and smallest, set on top of the pile, contained the state-of-the-art headsets that Niko didn’t really like much. They were bulky and reminded him of opticians’ apparatus, something he’d been introduced to mere months ago.

The second crate, in the middle in both size and positioning, contained their tactical suits – flexible but armored apparel that bore a strong resemblance to NOOSE SWAT gear. It was colored a dark grey – not black as many people assumed – and came complete with a balaclava and gloves and boots.

The bottom, and largest, case, contained their weapons. Both men had a primary weapon that consisted of a submachinegun – a more modern/high tech version of the P90 – and a sidearm – a pistol. Both weapons had high-end suppressers which the men attached with ease, after checking and running a quick service/clean on both weapons. They also had a few grenades – smoke and flash mainly, though each took a couple of fragmentation grenades – just in case. The final case also contained a knife, a multi-tool kit, and a mechanical lockpick.


Once both men had donned their combat gear, they drove out to the airport, their weapons and headsets stored in the trunk, jackets draped over themselves to hide their military appearance.

Niko parked a block from the Airport and they made their way to it on foot, artfully dodging any traffic in between.

They were greeted by the well known sound of jet engines, and Rami breached the chain link with ease. Within a minute they were beside the runway.

Niko was on point and, with his submachinegun in front, led Rami toward the terminal, to ‘waypoint one’, carefully keeping out of the lights and using cover where possible. In no time at all they reached the door.


Niko was worried about alarms, but Rami shook it off. Airports were busy places and certain areas weren’t alarmed. Whether it was luck, or the norm, their entry point was not alarmed and wide open. It took a while – almost fifteen minutes – but they managed to slip in unnoticed, right next to the ‘throwers’ that loaded up the luggage trolley that would service the airplanes. It was a feat in stealth and discipline, using the piles of cases, the parked caddy and other obstacles to sneak in, and they did it without being seen. Rami wondered if the baggage handlers would actually care.


They found themselves in the catacombs of the airport. As evident by the men loading and unloading the baggage trains, this was the hub for luggage, with conveyors moving in all sorts of directions. There were a lot of workers around too – all moving about like busy, but unenthusiastic, employees, many of them Latinos. Not many females though, Rami observed, wondering if the physical demands of being a handler played a factor. Probably not, he concluded; the women were all probably working roles that dealt directly with the public. Women seemed to be perceived as more hospitable and friendly than men. Rami believed that by such a shallow policy was how they’d probably function.


Either way, male or female – there was a female baggage handler – they were obstacles to be avoided. Both men knew the direction they had to move in, and the designation of the private terminal – P-3B, a designation that would mean absolutely nothing to anyone that didn’t work here.

The entire area was lit like a factory. Fluorescent lights hung high overhead, and orangey-yellow lights dotted the conveyors. There were the odd lamps on walls and pillars, as well as a myriad of LEDs on the machinery. Fortunately though, whether through economy-friendly design or happenstance, there were plenty of shadows and the complex layout only offered many hiding places.


Niko moved forward first. In a military sense, this area was heavy with civilians. That meant they were weapons-tight. They simply had to avoid any contact.

Niko took cover behind a wall, pressing his body deep into the shadows, and peeked round a corner. A set of metal steps hugged the wall and led to a catwalk which probably services the higher echelons of the conveyor system as well as providing access to the terminals. It was up they wanted to go.

Their night vision goggles were, in fact, infra-red based night vision, and gave the user a high contrast viewpoint. Human bodies stood out like proverbial sore thumbs, as did any other sources of heat. Thermal vision, the informal name was, though there were so many variants of the tool. Niko was not seeing the world in blues and oranges, but in black and white. There was a filter that added a mixture of the more common night vision in too, and that allowed Niko to see the faintest of light sources, and the basic outlines of objects.

Niko watched for any moving workers and saw his opening. He moved out and climbed the stairs, staying low and walking as quickly as he could without compromising on quietness. Luckily this area was not a quiet one, and they had some leeway in the noise they produced.

Niko reached the top of the steps and turned a corner. Ahead a man was approaching – probably thirty or forty feet away. He was carrying a large box and his face was hidden. Niko moved to the only cover available – on top of a machine control panel. He got as flat as he could and edged away from the walkway, into a soft shadow.

The worker passed, not even looking in Niko’s direction. Niko’s position was just above head height, so to be seen the man would have to just happen to look up. Like looking on a shelf.


Rami had positioned himself between a pillar and the lower end of a conveyor. He saw Niko disappear up the steps then the worker come awkwardly down. The worker walked past Rami and Niko radioed in.

“The way up’s clear.”

“Copy.” Rami acknowledged before moving up the steps.


The two converged on the catwalk and moved forward. They found themselves on another level with more conveyors and luggage elevators. Pillars littered the area with signs and fire extinguishers, as well as dolly-trolleys leaning up against them.

Rami pointed in the direction and, on the far wall under the golden glow of a service light, the access door to P-3B stood, lit up like a spotlight.


Rami now led Niko. It was the better way to play this game – leapfrog. Niko took cover out of sight while Rami moved to the next point of hiding. A moment later, Niko followed.

This repeated itself for another five minutes, and they finally found themselves on the highest catwalk, approaching door P-3B.

Niko backhanded Rami on the shoulder. The Israeli turned to see Niko pointing.

Above the door was a camera, pivoting, its single-eyed lens overlooking the area below.

“Stick to the wall. Move slowly.”

Rami took the natural lead now. He pressed his back against the wall and began side-stepping toward the door. He waiting for a moment, telling Niko to hold, then, as the camera began its rotation away from them, he moved quickly toward the door. He worked the lock in seconds and slipped inside.

“Clear in here.” His voice sounded in Niko’s ear. “Wait for the camera, then move in here.”


Niko felt insecure. Sure, he’d avoid the camera’s merciless gaze, but what of the men downstairs? If they looked up and saw a soldier – there was no other word that adequately described him – moving across the catwalk...

It didn’t bear thinking about. Instead he took a deep breath and, once the camera moved away, hurried toward the door.


Rami watched Niko enter and close the door behind him. He paused, casting a last look out over the luggage area as he shut the door, checking to see if anyone had noticed him. Rami was impressed by that.


The pair shared a nod then moved on.


The terminal was exactly what they expected. It had not changed from the photo or the layout they’d studied – both documents had been burnt. It was lit with night-lights too. Enough to see by, but also with plenty of shadows.

“This is going to fun.” Rami said, half sarcastically. In truth it would be fun. This was what they did. Sure, they’d both fare better with more social-based wet work, tailing and taking single people out, but they were also both trained for this.

In his short time working for the Mossad, Rami had dealt with some KGB operatives from Department V. Rami believed it was the Russians that coined the phrase wet affairs – Мокрые Дела – and it was likely that which gave them the reputation – in films and fiction at least – of cold hearted killers. The stereotype – or was archetype the right word? – of the Russian KGB assassin, eliminating the target with no emotion... it all came from Department V, the mokrie dela, the wet work. To wet the earth with the bane of blood, Rami had heard it explained by that old KGB man.


“How do you want to play it?” Niko asked, pulling Rami out of his mental digression. The Israeli looked down at the men waiting. Most sat reading papers, or magazines, two were engaged in a game of chess, and two more were playing cards on a seat between them. One man was doing some press-ups and a few were walking round. There was a small coffee shop at the far end, serving refreshments to alleviate the hunger pangs, or to quench a thirst. It was both too early and too late for these men to need the caffeine, so it was likely many drank the coffee just to have something to do. Two men were actually dozing, though Rami knew better than to discount them.

“Take out the stragglers first.” Rami said, noting the men walking around. Every man seemed to be in good shape, and were most likely armed. Rami wondered if the men had suppressed or unsuppressed weapons. He didn’t plan to find out, at least not the hard way.


Niko pointed at himself then to the left, where the walkway looped round to an empty cafe which stood above the terminal’s gate. The upper level encompassed each of the four – actually six, as the room was hexagonal – sides, with three stairways down, two leading down like those found in great halls, and one leading down behind the wall, providing back-stage access to the restrooms, which occupied both levels.


Rami ventured down, as Niko set his sights on a target that had wandered into the empty cafe. An easy kill Rami noted, but an important one. Like with sports, the first act had to be a good one. Goalkeepers apparently found it important to pounce on early shots, and nothing pleased them more than an easy first shot. Attacking players would, Rami imagined, want their first shot to be on target. A confidence builder? Perhaps, the Israeli though inconclusively. He was simultaneously amazed and bewildered by goalkeepers though, throwing themselves about like they do. They had to be tough and brave, leaping through the air, but also downright idiotic, perhaps crazy. Rami was unaware of the saying that all goalkeepers were crazy.


Niko crept up on the mercenary, his combat knife in hand. When he got in range, he hooked his left hand round the target’s head, cupping the mouth, and plunged the knife into the vertebrae, just below the skull. The man was dead almost instantly, and made no sound. He did not kick out, nor did he make any kind of death rattle. A truly silent kill – it was a technique that required practice but was deadly.


Rami’s was mere feet away from his first target. The man was moving through the light. He was not going to reach him before he stepped into view of the other mercenaries, so Rami took careful aim. He controlled his breathing, taking a breath and letting half out, then fired.

The man fell on the carpeted floor with very little noise. No one heard. Perhaps all the shooting they’d done in their lives had rendered them slightly deaf. Rami moved on, skirting the light and dragging the body behind a bench. He then checked his gun and moved on.


Niko had identified his next target. Immediately below him, the temptation to jump off the upper level was there. Distant, but there nonetheless. Instead Niko moved on a distance away from the target and slipped over the railing. He let himself down gently – and quietly – then crept up on the man.


Rami saw his target’s route pass ahead of him. He stood behind a large hanging sign and used his infra-red vision to track his target. The goggles had no problem seeing through the cardboard and, as the target passed, Rami stepped out.

The target’s head turned to see Rami’s left hand reach out. He grabbed the mercenary by the cheeks and thrust a hard and accurate punch to the throat.

The man sucked air in, shocked and before he could make any other sound, Rami stepped around him and grabbed him in a sleeper hold.

There was no neck break – not in the Vinewood way anyway, Rami tightened the sleeper hold and within seconds the man fell from consciousness. Then Rami tightened and held it for even longer, offering a little twist as he pulled the head upwards. There was the faintest of cracks as the spinal cord was severed. But Rami did not do the action violently, so the break was surgical. And quiet.


Out of instinct, Rami turned. He saw a mercenary approaching.

“Dave.” The man was holding a paper. “You seen this?”

Rami was already seen albeit only his shadow. Niko had turned on hearing the voice and had his gun up.

“Hold fire.” Rami breathed.


The man approached Rami, who was still in shadow. Luckily the mercenary was in a lit patch, so seeing the details of the figure was difficult.

“You get changed, brah?”

As soon as the man stepped out of the light, Rami moved forward. His knife plunged into the soft of the man’s stomach – he didn’t work out – and his hand came up to muffle any cry.

Niko nodded at Rami’s work – rather at how calm he was.

“What you...?” Niko turned and came face to face with a mercenary. The man blinked.

The man tried to yell. Niko grimaced and shot the man in the chest and face. No shout had come but the man fell onto a trash can, knocking it over.

Niko moved quickly, climbing up the wall with the use of a seat, and taking cover.

“We’re blown!” He rasped into the mike.

“Copy. Keep your head down.” Rami had already changed positions, and had take cover behind a service desk. He took a deep breath.


From his perch above, Niko saw the men get up and begin to move. Words were exchanged and a shout came out.

“Mario?” There was no answer.

More hushed talking and the men began to spread out, their guns drawn.


“Try to keep this quiet.” Rami advised.

“Got it.” Niko replied, reloading his pistol. He then shrugged and switched to his submachinegun. “Be advised, I’m switching to primary.”



Niko scanned the room, forcing himself to observe. These guys had made a huge mistake. By spreading out they’d allowed themselves to become vulnerable.


Rami was still in great shape, At least for a man of his age. In his prime, in his work for the Mossad, he had been a very strong and agile operator. He could leap higher than most men, and could dangle by a single arm for minutes at a time without his aim suffering. He could shimmy along ledges and even shoot at the same time. He could drop down from the rafters like a ninja, and kill his target – by gun or by hand – before he hit the floor.

Now though? He was getting old. He’d now moved from his cover, having taken a target down in the confusion, and climbed up to the higher level – kicking off of the wall to get the height his partner required a chair for. He still had some moves

“Thin them down to five or six, then we can bring the thunder.” Rami said, referring to their flash grenades and open combat.

Niko obliged by taking out a man who’d paused in between rows of seats. The headshot floored him. A mercenary turned and stared, but the newly deceased had, post mortem, hidden his body well. The man began a slow walk round.

“He’s mine.” Rami thought out-loud. Niko nodded – to himself – then moved to a different position.


Rami climbed over the railing and allowed himself to hang there for a moment. He felt the strain on his wrists and knees. Ten years ago he’d feel his muscles harden as they worked, and that’s it. Now, there was some discomfort.

The target passed beneath him and the Israeli pushed off of the railings, rotating in mid air.


The knife came down first. For some reason, the mercenary had looked up, perhaps seeing a shadow out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps in the reflection of his gun.

Rami didn’t ignore the now familiar target. The serrated blade came down, the tip penetrating the man’s left eyeball.

Rami landed in a roll, releasing his blade. He recovered, ignoring a dull pain in his knees, and pulled the body out of sight. He retrieved the knife and pushed the body under a row of seats. He ducked and rolled under the row behind.


Niko’s new position took him down to the lower level. He brought his gun up, sights set on the back of a man’s head.

He felt the breath before anything else. Immediately he spun round, his arm coming up and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The man’s face dropped. Niko was aware of the noise the gun made as it crashed to the floor, but he ignored it. For now. He grabbed the man by the collar and used his momentum to spin the man round. Both men fell, to Niko’s design, and the Serbian landed on top of the mercenary.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, ti kurvin sine?” Niko pulled the man up then threw his head down as hard as he could. There was a cold, wet thud and the man went limp. Niko then stood and felt the eyes on him. A shot was fired.

Niko grabbed one of the grenades.

“Cloudburst!” He rapped into his mic. The mercenaries probably didn’t hear it but he spoke in code anyway. Cloudburst meant he was releasing a smoke grenade.


Things suddenly went to hell. Rami brought his gun up and shot two men from under the seats. Niko had pulled down his goggles and pulled down a vending machine. Using it as cover he began picking off targets with short, controlled bursts.


Rami saw the men fall. One by one. The Serbian was using the smoke to conceal himself, and once he pulled down his goggles, Rami saw the red and orange figure behind a large darkened square. Clever, his analytical mind observed as he reloaded his gun.


The mercenaries began peppering Niko’s position with gun fire. The smoke was beginning to thin, so Niko moved. He rolled to the side and shoulder open a door as he rose to his feet. He even closed it after him.


Rami hadn’t seen his partner move. He was reloading and when he looked up, Niko was gone.


Niko found himself in a small corridor. It wasn’t well lit. The hallway looked like those found in the back of hotels – connecting two places for the convenience of the staff. He ran along, an idea forming in his mind.


Rami had to leave his position. Three men had cornered him and, as he crawled out, they approached.

There was a shout, but Rami rose, using his leg power to slap the gun out of the first man’s hands, with both palms. A little known fact – at least amongst most criminals – was that you hit hard with soft, and soft with hard. You don’t punch someone in the face. There’s a lot of bone there – you use the heel of your hand. You only punch in the stomach, or somewhere that’s soft. A gun was certainly not soft.

The mercenary was surprised, but Rami wasn’t. He danced past the man and spun as the other two – three now – mercenaries opened fired. The Israeli ducked as the mercenary took the bullets, Then he thrust forward, lunging the now dead body into one of the gun men.

Rami surged forward. As he reached a man – who was anticipating a melee attack – he threw his legs forward, allowing his upper half to fall backward. He grabbed the mercenary’s suppressed pistol and slid under the man’s open legs. As he passed, Rami opened fire, taking out the other two men. He stood and grabbed the disarmed man’s shoulder, spinning him round. A knee to the stomach allowed Rami to grab the head in an upside-down headlock. He twisted. Hard.


Niko opened the door and moved through the cafe. He found himself on the upper level and approached the railings.


Rami turned to see the remaining mercenaries bring their gun up, having seen the four second fight. The Israeli dropped the pistol and went for his submachinegun.

“Starlight!” Niko’s voice sounded. Rami merely looked at the floor, strafing as he did so.

The group of mercenaries hadn’t anticipated what came next. Niko had ‘cooked’ the grenade, and expertly thrown it into the group of men. They only had time to see it before it exploded.

The noise was ear piercing. The flash, had Niko not looked away, would have taking him out of the game too. But the mercenaries on the lower level all began stumbling about. The flashbang had exploded right in front of one man’s face, and he lay on the floor, unconscious, perhaps dead. Two more were writhing on the floor, bleeding from the ears.

Niko and Rami shared no sympathy. They opened up with their guns, sending three round bursts into each man’s head. In seconds they’d taken down ten men.


A few more survived. One had figured out Niko’s escape and was in the service corridor. Another had been at the far end of the terminal, by the entrance. The third was standing by the access door to baggage handling.


Niko took out the man by the baggage handling door. A simple shot with the submachinegun’s sights had seen to that. Rami turned and sprinted toward the man by the entrance. He leapt up and ran on the seats of two of the chairs, stepping up onto the backs of them before leaping into the air.

The target was taken by surprise. Rami came down, his knife drawn and held with the blade running parallel with his wrist. The force of him coming down not only slit the man’s throat, but almost took the head clean off. Rami stood, his lower arm and hand drenched in blood.


One man remained, and Niko had seen the door open. He’d left it closed. He moved and stood behind the door in the cafe.

The remaining target rushed through the door and al Niko had to do was put a single bullet in the back of his head.


“Mission compl–”

Niko’s statement was interrupted by a loud crash. He ran to the railings and saw a man disappear through a set of doors by the gate.

“We’ve got a runner!” Niko called to Rami, leaping the railing and taking chase. Rami wasn’t far behind.


Niko sprinted through the door and into the crisp, night time air. It was then he saw how close they’d timed it. The targets’ plane – a private one which still amazed both men – had taxied into position. The steps were down and the target ran up them.

Niko followed and the plane began to move. Rami only just caught up and had to leap off of the top of the steps as the plane accelerated.

“Don’t move!” Both men stared at the target, standing in the cockpit, a gun to the pilot’s head. “Shut the door.” The co-pilot was already dead. There was no sign of the crew, who’d fled as the man came aboard.

Rami obeyed. They had strict rules here – no civilian causalities. “Make a move toward me, and I kill him, we all die.”

The plane took off, and Niko lost his balance. He fell out of sight and knocked into a cupboard, revealing a collection of rucksacks. He grabbed one then waved it to Rami.


The tables had turned.

“You’re not going to shoot.” Rami said calmly. “If you wanted to die, you wouldn’t have run.”

“Who are you?” The man demanded.

“Let me answer that question with another.” Rami said. “Who hired you?”

“Nah-uh.” The man laughed mockingly. He was scared. “You take out my team – my team. I don’t owe you sh*t.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell us.”

The man chewed on that for a moment. “We’re a PMC. We go where the money is.” They knew that.

“But who paid for you?”

“You’re asking the wrong man. Ask that prick who sold us out. He took the money then sent you didn’t he?”

“Good try.” Niko said, reappearing. “You’re hired to kill the bad guys.” A look in the man’s eyes told them they were right. “But I’ve got bad news for you friend.” Niko approached the target. “Do you want to know who the bad guys are?”

The man exhaled, barely able to form the word ‘yeah’.

“Us.” Niko’s face went hard, and cold, his eyes staring the man down. The target froze and Niko’s gun came up. A single shot was fired.

The man flinched and nudged the pilot, knocking the controls. The plane changed pitch slightly, but enough to affect Niko’s shot. The single bullet didn’t hit the target’s head. Instead it bore into his chest. The man’s muscles tightened and he fired his shot into the pilot’s face.


The sound of the engines changed then. The plane began to tilt. Nose first.

“We’re going down.” Rami called out. Niko moved forward and brought his gun up to finish the target off. But the man fired first, causing Niko to jump back.

“I’m taking you with me…” The man gargled. He turned and fired several shots into the instruments before Niko could react. Both Rami and Niko put bullets into him in the end.

Then they saw the ocean in the cockpit window.

“We’d better leave.” Rami said, strangely calm. Both men grabbed the parachutes, struggling to stand. By the time they were on and they’d opened the door – to an inrush of wet and icy cold wind – the plane was almost vertical.

Rami wasted no time and leapt out. Niko was half a second behind.


The plus side – Niko thought as he fell into the darkness – was if the chute didn’t open, they might survive. It was only a couple of hundred feet fall to the water. Survivable. More so than on land anyway.

Both men had waiting mere seconds before opening their chutes. They weren’t far from land, and managed to steer in that direction.


Behind them the private jet collided with a fishing trawler in a huge fireball. Both operators felt the heat as they floated down towards the city of saints.


Click Here to read the next chapter - It's All About The Guns!.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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Damn, i thought the cliffhanger would end differently. tounge.gif


I've only read half of the chapter right now(too long lol). I'll finish it tomorrow, but i gotta hand it to ya Mokrie. It keeps getting better and better, and you constantly put more and more effor in it. Keep it up!


As for what i've read so far of it, i love the details you put in yet aagin, and this time the focus is on action i'd say.


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When does both partys cross paths again, I love reading those bits, I like how the plane went down and how it ended

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Mokrie Dela

Part one was slow ill admit. The entire tagline of this was 'liberty city will burn' and I aim for it to be explosive and, well part 3 is going to be mental.


This chapter is not my best. It had three rewrites, it kept getting too splinter cell like, even though all the guns and tools have been in a gta at some point, an every chapter I try, above all else, to make it feel like gta (luis stealing a jet for example; yeah right anyone would do that, let alone out fight experienced pilots, but hey SA did it and It was a device needed to tie two threads together).


The length; I thought about splitting it into two chapters but the break would affect the action I think. Like pausing a film mid-fight.


Let me know if it's too long to read in one go and I might set about splitting it into two posts.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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Hey Mokrie, nice work, but you made one mistake. In one part of the last chapter Niko is jumping on mercenary and he curses on Serbian ''you kurvin sin'', but he should yell ''ti kurvin sine'', that is grammatically correct on Serbian. If you want fix this.

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Thanks. I have to hold my hands up and admit unused a translator tounge.gif


Should be fixed now


@billy James: soon man, (I hope) it's clear that they're on different sides. Of course they're going to meet smile.gif

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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New chapter soon? tounge.gif


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New chapter soon? tounge.gif




Chapter Five – It's All About The Guns!


Karen was sitting in a makeshift office in the old casino, a building that had become not only the Remnants MC clubhouse, but her base of operations. They had a routine for when she arrived and left. Johnny was given an iFruit phone, and received a call – by Karen, using an electronically disguised voice, giving a passphrase and an address. Johnny would then send a couple of bikers to pick her up. She’d even dressed in biker leathers.

It was the most secure way, she’d said and when she arrived safely at the old casino, she would whisper Johnny a new passphrase. Only Johnny and Luis knew it. Karen did in fact tell them both two passphrases. One meant everything was ok, and another mean that she had a tail. A prearranged danger passphrase had also been thought up, and that didn’t change. If Karen spoke that, it meant leave town.


“What’s the deal with that sh*t we picked up from Ramirez’s?” Johnny asked as he entered the room. The walls had been repaired – mostly – and repainted but the place still felt run down. Only a few rooms – what made up the clubhouse – looked like home, or anything close.

“Still looking through it. Confirming a few things.” Karen’s reply was vague.

“How long’s it take to read?”

Karen held up her arms. “I don’t know. Frankly, I’ve had other duties. Has Luis arrived yet?”

Johnny shook his head but, right on cue, felt the hand on his shoulder.

“’sup?” Luis still maintained the wearing of his leather jacket, over jeans and a T shirt. Johnny knew none of it was real biker gear. Rich boy clothes. Luis was alright, but he was a typical money chaser. Expensive clothes – even when trying to look cheap – expensive haircut, expensive watch…

“Good.” Karen nodded. Luis noticed the bags under her eyes. This woman was bearing the stress and didn’t appear to be handling it too well. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, my boss is not working alone. He’s part of something, and thanks to Ramirez, we know a little more. I haven’t been able to unlock all the mysteries yet, but one thing his notes has told us is that guns are involved. Right now there’s a cache of guns sitting in a warehouse somewhere.”


“Yes Luis. You both know about the elections and the hot topic of gun control.” Karen held a hand out as she spoke, as if to weight something up. “One side wants to re-legalize guns and control them, the other to clamp down on them and eradicate them from our streets. I’m personally in the latter camp, but it’s a controversial subject.

“My boss has – through that war-lord – obtained a vast amount of military-grade weapons, not to mention a private army.” Karen’s face turned serious. “I spoke to our friend earlier and he gave me some bad news. His men, that were with him in Africa for the last year – most being former soldiers – have failed to report in. According to the news, there was a terrorist attack in Los Santos, last night I think. It’s believed their plane was destroyed as it left the airport – a fact which I’ve confirmed. Also unconfirmed reports suggest there was a shootout, though no-one witnessed it, and that several men were dead. Some people say it was gangs, but most believe it was terrorists.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Luis asked.

Karen nodded, swallowing hard. “We have no more support. Rodriguez has supplied my boss and his friends with all the guns they need and a small army to boot. I hoped we’d counter that with our mercenary friend’s men. We wouldn’t have the numbers but we’d have the training. That is no longer an option. Our mercenary friend has also elected to leave us.”

“Game over…” Johnny breathed.

“Not quite, guys. I know your histories. Johnny I know about Billy, among other things. Luis, I know about Bulgarin, and the reason your club was shut down. You two can shoot. I didn’t want to do this, but Johnny I need your gang. Ditch the leathers, put on some smarter jackets or something. My boss has stepped things up, so it’s time to see how he likes it. I want that warehouse leveled. There’s enough explosives in the cache to level that place, but it’s well protected. I want you two to go, and with your men Johnny, lay waste to it.”

Johnny nodded, taking a moment. “Alright but you have to promise me this isn’t a suicide mission – for the brothers as well.”

“I won’t lie, it’s dangerous. People could die, but we need this. I’m starting to unravel the string, and it’s big. We need these guns gone.”

Oye, won’t Rodriguez just ship more guns in?”

“Possibly, but at greater expense. He won’t be happy, and although it’s a small step, it might make him think twice about his companions. If it was you and your guns kept getting blown up, wouldn’t you get a little annoyed?”

Luis nodded.

“I’m gonna go talk to the boys.”

Luis watched Johnny leave then asked: “I’m guessing we’re not going on bikes.”

Karen shook her head. “No cars. Steal them from the streets – but not from around here. Take them from across the city. Lancaster, Castle, Broker, Bohan, maybe one from no further north than Big Horn Drive.” She told Luis where the staging point was. “Our mercenary friend did leave us with a little present though. There’s some guns out the back.”

Luis nodded.


The bikers had all done exactly what was told. No one took a car from Beaverhead Avenue, though one was stolen from the nearby car wash. Luis had gone as far as the airport for his. His obsession with 72 had enlightened him to the pedantic nature of spy games or similar operations. It was annoying but it made sense, in a strange way.

Karen had also told Johnny and Luis to recover whatever guns they could. They liked that idea, using their enemy’s guns against them.

Johnny and Luis had scratched together a quick plan and the bikers moved out to take positions. One of them – a guy known as Mouse – was a sneaky little f*ck. He had the first job of them all, sneakily placing a small bomb – a crude device ‘Spark’ (a man who was an electrician by day and a biker by night) had made out of an alarm clock and a pipebomb – under a truck cab.


Most of the men had AK-47s and several had a grenade or two. Every man also wore a balaclava – most made out of a hat or something.


Johnny, with his AK-47, stood beside Luis, watching the warehouse. A few men were outside and there were, Karen warned, probably about fifty men inside. Luis thought that might be an exaggeration but Johnny agreed that they should be ready for it.

Fifteen bikers against fifty men. Not good odds but with the five visible men outside, and the inevitable rushing, Johnny figured it’d be more like fifteen against forty, perhaps thirty/thirty five.

The men all watched Mouse as he did his business. Then, with a loud and flinch-inducing explosion, the battle began.


The men stormed the courtyard, guns up and taking down the patrolling men in seconds. Five down.

Three men came out, not aware a gunfight was taking place. Forty-Two.

Everyone who had a grenade put one through the windows. An almighty cacophony of explosions and shattering glass followed, as did more gunfire. It was one of the craziest things Johnny and ever seen. The factory bellowed smoke and finally, when they dared, Luis and Johnny led their men inside.


Vision was poor. The grenades had filled the building with smoke, and the gunfire made things worse. Fifteen to twenty men had been killed by the grenades – Luis’s idea – and that won them the battle.

The Remnants MC, hit the warehouse like a hurricane. They ran in from every direction, and shot any man that wasn’t their own.

The bad guys – Luis and Johnny still didn’t know who the hell they were – had managed to return fire eventually but by that time it was too late. Some had barricade themselves in various rooms, but the doors and piles of furniture were just not a match for half a dozen men with assault rifles.


Johnny was glad Michael hadn’t joined them, though his expertise would have helped. Part of him did, in fact, wish his brother was here. He’d be proud – technically if not morally.


As soon as it was plausible to move around, Luis, Johnny and Spark rounded up all the explosives and set about placing them by each pile of weapon crates. The other men opened what they could and stuffed as many guns as they could into rucksacks and duffel bags.


Just six minutes after the shooting began, the men were leaving, as quickly as they arrived. Spark had done a wonderful job setting the explosives – radio controlled C4. He’d synched all of it to one controller and, along with Luis and Johnny, he was the last to leave.

They’d driven past the warehouse as sirens began to echo through the Alderney streets. Spark tapped the button on the remote detonator as Luis stamped on the gas.


The car rocked, lifted onto two wheels for a full three seconds as the warehouse exploded violently. Debris flew up to three hundred yards away. The windows in the car shattered – each man was ready for it, as Spark had warned of it – and the heat was felt from a hundred yards away. Johnny looked back to see a mushroom cloud climb from the wreckage.

“Sh*t!” He breathed, unable to say anything else.

Luis, only just able to prevent the car from flipping, rapped off a lyrical curse in Spanish. “Who needs mercenaries, bro?”

Johnny exhaled by way of laughter and just kept staring.


Eventually the men were back – with no tails – to their ‘safe’ zones. From there they ditched their clothes – storing them in bags, and made their way, back in biker leathers, to the club house. Karen would later instruct the clothes to be burnt.


Two men had died, Johnny learned in the old building. Their bodies had been dragged and driven to the Alderney beaches where, sadly, they’d been given shallow graves hidden from any prying eyes.

“Only two?” Karen raised an eyebrow. “That’s not bad. I mean, it’s not good but… You know what I mean.”

“Remind me not to piss you guys off, bro.” Luis said, slapping Johnny’s shoulder. “That was f*cking epic. Horrible, but…. Mierda.”


Click Here to read the next chapter - Welcome-Back Party.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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Nice one, bit more calmer compared to previous ones. Is this the one which you wrote then had to re-write all over?


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Nice one, bit more calmer compared to previous ones. Is this the one which you wrote then had to re-write all over?

No that was final boarding call.

Though this one did have a rewrite - focusing on the action felt too much like a news paper report. confused.gif

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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i thought you said there was a new chapter yesterday mokrie?


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i thought you said there was a new chapter yesterday mokrie?

I'd WRITTEN a new chapter. It won't be uploaded for a while. Needs editing and stuff, plus it's further down the line. Not sure when I'll get time to edit the chapters waiting. Not much interest in this ATM. Perhaps I made it too long?

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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i thought you said there was a new chapter yesterday mokrie?

I'd WRITTEN a new chapter. It won't be uploaded for a while. Needs editing and stuff, plus it's further down the line. Not sure when I'll get time to edit the chapters waiting. Not much interest in this ATM. Perhaps I made it too long?

O, i am always interested to read more of this awesome story tounge.gif

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O, i am always interested to read more of this awesome story tounge.gif

Thanks. I'm still going to upload and write it of course, but updates come quicker with more posts and more interest.


When this is done though im going to do something original. I wonder how many people will read that?





Chapter Six – Welcome-Back Party


Luis woke up to the shrill of the phone. Not his phone, but the one Karen had given him. He reached blindly for it and put it to his ear, still lying in bed.

Hola, ¿Qué es?. He growled.

“Morning sleepyhead.” The electronic voice sounded.

Luis sat up and allowed his free hand to grasp the back of his neck. “Yeah, what you want?”

“Get yourself some coffee. We’ve got two prime targets flying in later. I want you to meet me in Middle Park. Don’t hang around either.”


The call ended and Luis rolled out of bed. He visited the bathroom and walked down the road for a good coffee. He returned to his apartment and showered. He had a light breakfast then left for the park.


Johnny’s morning was much of the same. His coffee was out of a cheap packet, and his breakfast was nothing spectacular. He rode his bike to the park and found Karen waiting, sitting on the side of the fountain.

Luis was already there.

“Thanks for making it. I’ll get straight to it. The men killed yesterday were killed at the orders of my boss.” He face showed shame and something else, Luis noted, almost hopelessness. “Basically I think it’s time to take more aggressive measures. My boss’s men are coming back today. I want you two to meet them, and give them a warm reception.”

Johnny nodded. “These the two that tried to kill Michael?”

Karen shrugged. “Could be. I don’t know who he sent. But I want you to meet them and… eliminate them.” Karen’s voice dropped on the last two words under the weight of the meaning.

“This a spy-style thing?” Luis asked. “Do it without being seen or heard or whatever.”

“Kinda. I don’t want this to make the news. I don’t want any civilian casualties. Just those two and that’s it.”

“Ok. So how we going to do this?” Johnny asked. “Drive up and gun them as they come out of the terminal?”

“They’re getting a commercial flight.” Karen offered, “So they’ll exit the plane directly to the terminal.”

“These guys pros, right?” Luis said. “Once they’re out of the airport, won’t they disappear? Get taxis or a train or one of those tricks?”

“Most likely. I want you two to go to the terminal, and wait for the flight. When you see the men, follow them outside, or take them in the terminal, the choice is yours. Just remember: no civilian casualties, and make sure you get out clear. I don’t want to see your names on tonight’s Terrorist Watch.”

“Then the terminal won’t be a good idea then.” Johnny said. “Would be ironic though.”

“Do it outside then guys. But don’t let them get away. If they split up, you chase them. If one gets on a train, you get on it. If one gets in a cab, you chase it down and take him out – just him, not the cab driver.”


Karen smiled, enough to show something positive, but not enough to hide the worry in her face. “We’re going to use some of the guns we stole. There were some impressive weapons in that cache. I’ve made the drop for you. You’ll find a silenced submachinegun each and a silenced pistol each. This has to be quick. Take them down fast, and get out of there.”

“Wait a sec.” Johnny said. “How are we going to get the guns in the airport?”

“sh*t,” Karen sighed. “I’d overlooked that.”

“What if one of us went inside, then eyeballed the men and…”

Luis shook his head. “They’re going to come out of the terminal aren’t they? Just wait for them outside.”

“Whatever guys, just get going. The weapons are in a car parked on Albany Avenue.” She passed over a set of keys.

The airport was the usual sight. Cabs pulled over and traded passengers as did busses and private cars.

“How long you figure we can sit here until people notice.”

Luis shrugged. “How long until the flight?”

“Any minute now” Johnny said, looking at the clock on the dashboard. “Keep an eye out.”


Niko followed Rami out of the terminal. Both men could feel jetlag tugging at them, and both called out for their beds. Niko yawned, trying to hide it as a cough.

“We going straight to see the old man?” Rami asked as they stepped into the crisp Liberty City breeze.

Niko opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to reply.


“There they are.” Luis pointed.

Johnny took a breath. “Let’s do this.”


Rami saw the gun first. He slapped Niko on the shoulder and called out: “GUN!”

The people near enough to hear panicked. Some were sensible and dropped to the ground, but most just ran, screaming.

Niko swore in his native tongue. They’d just gotten off the plane, and thus had no guns. They had no choice but to run.


Luis opened fire but the target had moved and the civilians running around complicated matters.

“f*ck this, we can’t get a shot off.”

Johnny shook his head. “There!” He pointed. “They’re running.”

The men jumped out of the car, careful to keep their guns hidden.

“Split up!” Niko shouted, running south. Rami didn’t reply, instead he moved north. He’d already decided he’d make a break for the trains.


Niko was used to running. He’d done a lot of it, but this was the first time in as long as he could remember that he was unarmed while being shot at.


Johnny had turned to follow Niko. Luis shrugged and looked around for the other man. He saw him then followed, knowing he was slightly faster.


Niko leapt over one of the barriers and ran into traffic. A car screeched to a halt as he slid over the hood, casting a look backward to see the man chasing him – or rather the gun.

Johnny had switched to the pistol. Not only was it smaller and easier to hide, and to use while running, but it was actually quieter – the submachinegun wasn’t completely silent. At least that was the assumption he made.


Niko heard the shot hit the metal bodywork of the car as his feet found ground. He turned back to see a car stop. People were running across the road and the panic had spread to the traffic now. Such drastic scenes at airports would scare most people. Terrorists! People would think. Some cars sped off in squeals of tires, whereas others were abandoned as the motorists joined the fleeing throng. To his right, Niko heard the unmistakable thud as human body met a vehicular one. There were more screams and engine noises.

Johnny fired again, missing again. He wasn’t good at running and shooting. He stopped and crouched behind an abandoned taxi. He took aim.


Niko felt the shot tear past his arm as he vaulted another hood. Too close!. He met the ground then crouched behind the car’s wheel. A second later he risked a look back.


Johnny saw the man’s head appear and squeezed off a few shots. None of them hit the target.


Niko ducked back down. Then, knowing he was cornered, he moved along the car, trying to creep away.


Johnny saw Niko out of the corner of his eye. The man was clever. He was using the cars, not only as cover, but to hide his attempted escape. Johnny saw the man move between two of them for the briefest second. He rose up and ran over.


Niko heard the noise of a car hood popping being him to see his attacker land after leaping a car.

Govno!” He breathed as the gun came up.


Rami’s pace wasn’t a match for Luis. The Israeli identified the problem and turned to run across the road, narrowly avoiding being hit by a car. He’d seen someone else get hit, but they got back up. Luckily the car just nudged them out of the way.

As another car accelerated, right in front of him, Rami felt the stare of a gun. He jumped and used the moving car as a step, leaping over the roof as a shot shattered the car’s window. He landed in a roll that jolted his spine, but ran on.


Luis’s shot had missed. That damned old guy had jumped onto and over a damned moving car! Luis weaved in and out of the traffic, dodging fleeing civilians too. By the time he’d crossed the road, the target had regained his lead.

But Luis got lucky. He saw the target turn toward the train station.

Niko opened the car door and felt the shock of the bullet hitting the metalwork. He slid into the car and started the engine. Someone had abandoned this car, and left the keys in it.


“sh*t!” Johnny breathed, seeing his target enter the car. Then, a second later, the car was heading for him.


It was the only weapon Niko had. He steered past the ditched cars and stood on the throttle, his sights set on the attacker.


Johnny turned and ran. The car ate up the distance in seconds and, at the last moment, he threw his body to the side, rolling over a cab’s hood. He recovered and saw the car moving off. He fired but the shots did nothing. He turned for his car.

Luis ran through the doors as a car sped past. He didn’t even bother looking at it, and just ran up the stairs.


Rami reached the platform and slowed to a walk as he removed his jacket. He weaved in and out of the waiting passengers who were oblivious of the chaos below them. Luis also reached the platform and began walking through the crowd, looking for the target.

Rami reached the end of the platform as the train pulled in. He blended with the crowd and stepped aboard.

Luis watched the crowd as they boarded the train. He looked around at the people left on the platform. After deciding that his target was not among them, and there was no other exit available – Luis looked down the tracks in case the man had tried to pull a fast one – he jumped onto the train.

Johnny followed the target round the airport loop, and both turned off toward Tudor Street. Johnny tried to shoot out of the window, but his aim was terrible. Only one in about six shots hit the car, and that was merely on the tailgate.


Niko wasn’t overly worried. The man behind him – Niko thought he knew who it was – didn’t have a good aim. Niko though, had nothing, so he’d have to rely on his driving skills. He drifted onto Saratoga Avenue, and gunned the engine.


Johnny followed, slower, and executed a messier drift that almost became a spin-out. He fishtailed as he accelerated, wishing he was on his bike, but managed to hold it. He tried shooting again, but missed.


Niko used the straight road to his advantage. He watched in the rear-view mirror as the man shot awkwardly out of the window. That’s when he had an idea. He allowed his car to slow a fraction as he turned into an alley leading to Howard Street.


Luis moved through the crowded train, searching for the target’s face. He had to be on here... somewhere.


Rami watched the man with his peripheral vision. He held his jacket in his left hand, hiding it behind him, and just appeared to stare out of the window.


Luis saw him. He’d ditched his jacket, changing the color of his torso. He was just staring out of the window.

Luis reached into his coat for his gun.


Niko’s target had caught up, and was now mere feet behind him. The chase had led, by Niko’s design, to Huntingdon Street.

The Serbian checked his mirror and, as soon as the man’s gun came out of the window, Niko acted.


Johnny didn’t see it coming. As he fired, the target braked. Johnny couldn’t react. The cars collided and Johnny felt the gun fall from his grip.


Niko saw the gun hit the ground and accelerated.

Johnny shouted out a curse. He brought his car to a noisy stop and retrieved the gun. Then he accelerated to see the target turn onto Inchon Street.


Niko sped up the street then turned into an alley he knew was there. He cut took another turn and headed down the southbound alleyway and stopped near the end. He stepped out of the car and ran toward Huntingdon Street. After checking for his tail, and not seeing him, Niko made his way toward the nearby train station.


Johnny reached Livingston Avenue and looked both ways for his target. He couldn’t see him, so he turned left, heading toward the man road.

“Sh*t.” He breathed, hitting the steering wheel, realizing his target was gone.


Rami saw the gun come out and turned, bringing his jacket up. Luis was struck by surprise as the jacket was hooked over the gun. Rami pulled it down, knocking the gun to the floor.

Luis improvised and led with a fist. Rami dodged that and countered, grabbing the extended arm and pulling the man in. He stepped aside and pushed the man toward the windows.

Luis felt the pain as his arm smashed through the window. Air rushed in, and people gasped. Most stepped back as Rami grabbed Luis’s head to hit it against the side.

Luis kicked backward, knocking the man back. He turned and threw another kick out. Rami jumped back, avoiding it, and grabbed the foot. He pulled the foot, lifting it up too. Luis felt his balance go, and he fell back on his ass.

Rami, still holding the man’s foot, stepped forward and dropped, leading with his knee.


Luis felt the knee strike his stomach. The pain was immense, and his vision faded. He almost passed out, but he somehow managed to throw a kick out.

Rami couldn’t dodge the kick, which connected with his left temple. He fell, suddenly dizzy from the lucky strike.

Both men got to their feet, as the train announced the next stop: Huntingdon Street.

Luis struck out first, throwing two feints and a third real punch. Rami dodged the feints but the third hit him in the face. He shook it off then lurched forward as Luis threw another punch. Rami ducked under the fist and threw a punch out at the man’s armpit.


Luis flinched back as the pain shot through his shoulder. What the - ?

Rami attacked again, with a low sweeping kick. The train finally stopped, and Luis used the opportunity to try to grab his enemy.

Rami ducked out of the school-yard grab, and threw an elbow at the man’s face.


The strike threw Luis’s head back, hitting it against the wall. The doors were open, and Luis threw himself at Rami.

The Israeli stepped aside, and parried the lunge. Luis though, managed to get an arm around one of Rami’s legs, and his superior muscular strength knock the man over.


Luis stumbled to his feet, pain now filling half of his body. Rami too was getting up. Fights didn’t happen how Vinewood portrayed them. They didn’t last for fifteen minutes, with dozens of flying kicks hitting each man’s face, and them to fight on. After a minute or so fatigue set in, mixed with the pain. Both men took time getting to their feet, even though both were used to fighting. Rami’s experience of hand-to-hand combat had, for the last five years, been short. Quick counters, attacks, his fights lasted seconds usually. Luis, while used to longer fights from his cage-fighting days, was used to his fights being against lesser skilled opponents.

After a short stand-off, the two attacked each other again. This time Rami began it, and for the next minute the two men wrestled. Luis was floored as the door-closing message sounded. Rami pushed Luis toward the doors, hoping to have the man’s head caught in between them.

But Luis had other ideas. He threw a knee out to the man’s groin.


There was some things that training and practice did nothing for. Being hit in the nuts was one of those things. Rami recoiled, almost going fetal. Luis grabbed the man and pulled him toward the door.

The world spun for Rami. He saw the interior of the train blur then he saw the light of the blue. He landed on something hard and cold. He heard the rattle of the train as he stood.

Luis got to his feet and saw the man stand as the doors shut. The train was moving now and both men exchanged a look through the glass.

Rami sighed as the train rattled away. He shook his head and turned to the steps.


Niko was waiting for the train to Algonquin and heard the pained groan from behind him. He turned.


The Israeli looked up, allowing a short pah of laughter.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“The trains in this city are a pain.” He breathed.

Niko shook his head.


Click Here to read the next chapter - Sweet Dreams, Niko.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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Niko heard the noise of a car hood popping being him to see his attacker land after leaping a car.

Govno!” He breathed as the gun came up.




“sh*t!” Johnny breathed, seeing his target enter the car. Then, a second later, the car was heading for him.



Why is it so important that the characters breathed when they said "sh*t" tounge.gif


I'm just messing, great chapter again mokrie!


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Mokrie Dela
Niko heard the noise of a car hood popping being him to see his attacker land after leaping a car.

Govno!” He breathed as the gun came up.




“sh*t!” Johnny breathed, seeing his target enter the car. Then, a second later, the car was heading for him.



Why is it so important that the characters breathed when they said "sh*t" tounge.gif


I'm just messing, great chapter again mokrie!

It's supposed to convey how they said it.


"sh*t!" He shouted - you can imagine him shouting loud.


"sh*t," He breathed - imagine someone saying it as the exhale, almost like a whisper. Completely different imagery.



Thanks, i'll get new chapter up soon.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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  • 2 weeks later...

Cool, can't wait!


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Mokrie Dela


Chapter Seven – Sweet Dreams, Niko


Niko sat with Rami in the office, with The Old Man scowling. It wasn’t their fault, and the man knew neither man would tolerate any unprofessional berating. There was the necessary expression of disappointment though.

“I think I know who it was.” Niko offered.

“Go on…” The man encouraged, trying to keep his frustration under control.

“The man looked familiar – it was the same man that tried getting us when we went to Ramirez’s house. We fought. Well I remember years ago, doing a deal that went bad. He was there. Later on we worked together again.”

“The heroin deal and diamonds fiasco?”

Niko blinked. “How do you know about that?”

The man shrugged. “Firstly it was through Torres that my predecessor employed you. Secondly everyone and his mother knew about the diamonds fiasco. A huge shootout in the museum, two men fleeing with the mob shooting at Sthem on the streets and some psycho in a Buzzard shooting at helicopters. Investigations eventually led to certain elements of the Pegerino family; Ray Boccino, though he was dead by the time he was found out. Then by the time they got enough to move on Pegerino, he was dead too.” Niko nodded. “So who is this guy?”

“A biker named Johnny.”

“Klebitz…” The man breathed, in statement more than question. Niko nodded as his boss leant back in his chair, his hand coming to his mouth, fingers stroking his light stubble in thought. “That means Michael must be around somewhere.”

Niko shrugged.

“That’s not the big question though.” Rami said, getting a raised eyebrow in return. He explained. “We’ve had at least three instances now where our operational security has come in to question. One can be explained by Michael’s knowledge – Ramirez for example; Klebitz might have known about him keeping things at his house. Another can be explained by poor security from others; your contact could have had a leak. But the most recent one… they knew we were on that flight, from Los Santos. That was no guess. Klebitz – Johnny – and whoever the hell that other guy was were there for us. This wasn’t a robbery, or a coincidence. Someone is giving them information.”

The Old Man nodded. “I am inclined to agree with you.” He took a breath then made a decision. “There was also an attack on a warehouse under the protection of a contact of mine. It was being used as a weapons storage facility, and was quite secure. Someone attacked it, killed all of the security detail, and destroyed the place. And I’m not talking about street hoodlums seeing it as a threat to their gang. Reports suggest it was a strangely militaristic operation. The place was assaulted – no other word for it – by a large number of men; the security there was too good for such a result to come from just a couple of men. An alert was called in, but by the time Greenhorn and D’Amico got there with back up forces, the place was rubble.”

“You think the army did it?” Niko asked.

“No. Someone else. Who in this city, might I ask, has the men and resources to do such a thing?”

Niko and Rami shared a look. “The mob?”

“On the surface it’d appear to be so. I think you’re right gentlemen, we have a mole. Someone is feeding information to them – the mob, whoever it is. They know they’re targeted by us, and are trying to fight for their survival.”

Niko nodded. “Who is it then?”

“I’m not completely ruling out you two, though almost getting yourselves killed is a little over-the-top concealment plan. It’s possible it’s D’Amico or Greenhorn. Those two do like to gamble – I’m aware they frequent an illegal casino set in a liquor store over in Willis somewhere… that information might come in handy one day. There’s a few other people who are necessary for these operations to run. I’ll have to look into this…

“For you two though, keep working as you are. We’ve still got things to do and time is slowly ticking away. When the time comes, you can take the mole out, but for now, keep focused. Maintain operational security, and good operational integrity outside. You know what that means.”

“Dry-cleaning, yes.” Rami said.

“Excellent. Well get yourselves some rest. It’s possible I may put you on Klebitz, but knowing this Johnny’s in the city makes me think Michael is.”



Karen had been milling it over. She sat in her apartment with the television on, though she wasn’t watching it. A plate of lukewarm dinner sat in front of her, hardly touched, and a glass of wine sat dormant too. She had the file open on the table, and she was twirling her fork round in her hand, intermittently moving it to her mouth as she thought.

She remembered it well. It had started as a job, just a job. Her last one. She’d made mistakes in her life – who hadn’t? – but had been both lucky and unlucky with them. She got into trouble; that was the bad luck. The good luck was that there was a way out. All she’d had to do for the last one was to spy on him. That’s it.

She still liked him. She didn’t know why. It had been a couple of years, and she’d seen him once or twice in the office. She didn’t think he saw her, though if he did he would have ignored her.

She sighed and put the fork on the plate. Right now she had to choose. Her heart, her conscience, or the lives of others. One life against them all.

How much was one man’s life worth? How much would a hitman charge for this task?

Kill one man to save another, that sort of thing didn’t seem worth it. But kill one man to save hundreds?

Could she kill someone she loved, to spare hundreds of strangers? Would it be at the expense of herself?

Decide! The voice inside demanded.

“I need more intel.” She breathed. She was fatigued. She was stressed. Just what the hell was going on here? That warehouse, full of guns. They were waiting for something. But what? War? With who?

Who had he been meeting with? Who were his contacts? How far did this go?

How far did what go?

Why had she stayed on? She’d done what was asked, and was free. She could have moved away. She should have moved away.

She wanted to help people. Settle her guilt? Sure the company wasn’t a real law enforcement agency. They didn’t arrest people; they killed people. But it was for the Greater Good, wasn’t it? Terrorists. Drug smugglers. Threats.


She looked back at the file and the face on it.

She sighed then picked up the phone, feeling sick to her stomach. It had to be done. But she hated it, and by the time the phone call would end, she’d hate herself even more.


Luis was at the club. He sat in the backroom going over some of the figures – something usually dealt with during the day, and something he wished Tony still did. He threw the paper to the desk and leant back. His mind was elsewhere.

Right on cue his phone rang. Not his work phone or business phone. That phone.


“We need to meet.”

He sighed at the scrambled voice. “Ok where?”

“Castle Drive. Get there and try to hail a cab.”


Luis had gotten two cabs then the train. He didn’t like the subway – too dirty – but that was one of the things he was told to do. He exited Feldspar station and walked onto Castle Drive.


Karen had timed it well. She’d been parked and on seeing Luis appear, walking from the subway station, she moved.

Luis saw a cab, and called for it. The cab stopped and he got in. Immediately the car drove off.

“No tails?” Karen asked from the driver seat. She wore clothes typical for a cabbie, and a baseball cap to hide her face. The clothes were slightly baggy, enough to conceal her breasts, which weren’t large enough to worry about strapping down.

“Don’t think so.”


“So what’s going on? Where’s Johnny?”

“It’s just you tonight. I’m giving you a target I want you to eliminate. Look under your seat.”

Luis did and found a file. He saw the man’s name, and where he lived. He also saw an attached photo of the man, and the building in which he lived.

“I’m still trying to track down his partner, but for now it’s just him. He’s dangerous – I cannot overstate that. You have to be quiet. Get in – sneak in. Take your time. Catch him when he’s sleeping and put a bullet into his head. Don’t try to be clever. No talking to him, don’t wake him up. If he sees you, you’re going to be in trouble. Don’t take that file with you. Put it back under the seat. Guns are in the trunk.”

“I got it.” Luis swallowed as Karen pulled into a parking lot. sh*t just got serious.


Niko was used to them. Every now and then they’d wake him up in the middle of the night.

Tonight’s was no different. Dimitri was holding Katie hostage. He was speaking, but there was no sound. Mikhail was shouting at him to put the gun down, and Dimitri shouted back. Niko saw himself shoot the Russian. It was raining in the living room.

Mallorie was sitting across Vlad Glebov’s lap, who sat with an obnoxious grin on his face. Roman was hiding.


His eyes opened to see the dark apartment, the light from outside just leaking in. Niko sat up and sighed, running his hand across his sweaty face. He rolled out of bed, leaving the bed sheets in a knotted muddle.

He moved to the bathroom.


Luis thought he’d heard movement. He hadn’t. Somehow Karen had managed to get a key to the apartment. Luis didn’t know how, but Karen had managed to steal his keys and get them cut while he was at the office. She’d returned them before he’d got back from the job he was on.

It wasn’t long after that that Niko had ceased leaving his coat at the office. The changing seasons had possibly explained that; winter demanded one wore a coat, so Niko didn’t leave it anywhere. Rami had also warned Niko of poor fieldcraft.

So, with the illicitly cut key, Luis had entered Niko’s apartment. It was a pretty nice one actually. Niko had decorated it about a year ago – Luis didn’t know that of course – and it looked good. An off-white carpet had been laid and matched the walls, which bore a beach wood skirting at the bottom. The windows looked out over the Humboldt River and Dukes.

Luis was grateful for the carpet. He was also unaware that Niko didn’t allow anyone in with shoes on, not that it mattered to Luis. He was here to do worse things than muddy up the carpet.

The gun Karen had supplied him with had been taken from the warehouse. He had a silenced pistol and an Uzi with a silencer. He’d also changed clothes and now wore black jeans, and a black top, the hood pulled over his face. He wore gloves too. He was a shadow.

Niko had run some cold water over his face, and used a damp flannel to wipe the rest of his body. He then dried himself and decided to go back to bed.

Take your time. He reminded himself. He crept as slowly and quietly as he could. He’d found the kitchen and dining area easily, and guessed the bedroom was at the far end of the apartment, through a door.

He crept forward, his eyes darting all over the place, but his gun remaining straight ahead. He put each foot down slowly and transferred his weight on it with care, so as to not make any floorboards creak. The carpet absorbed most of his steps, and there was no unwanted noise.


He reached to door and pushed it open gently. Inside he saw the bed, with the covers in the middle.

It was strange. In front of him, messily wrapped up like a baby in the duvet, was the man that Karen had warned was dangerous. And yet he’d never know what hit him.

Luis aimed the gun at the body, and inched forward. Slowly the pillow appeared. Luis took a breath.

Luis blinked in confusion. There was no head. The body was there but… Oh no –

Niko saw the man by his bed and, even in his sleepy, groggy state, had no doubts as to what it was. He acted on instinct rather than sleep-hindered logic.


Luis turned his head, seeing movement. His eyes went wide but there was nothing else he could do. He had no time to react.


Niko had dove at the figure and tackled him. Both men fell to the floor.


Luis dropped his pistol as he hit the floor. Even though it was carpeted, it still hurt, and he still had the bruises from the fight on the train.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the tight pain in his belly, and reached for his other gun.


Niko was on all fours, and he slapped at the floor for the attacker’s gun.


Luis saw Niko grab the gun. He backpedaled and went for his submachinegun.

Niko got there first and quick-fired at the shadow. Luis had seen it though and darted out of the door.


Niko got to his feet and grabbed a pair of trousers from the dresser. He put them on hurriedly, and grabbed the first coat he could find, putting it over the T-shirt he wore in bed.


Luis saw the movement in the door and, as he moved toward the kitchen for solid cover, fired.


Niko was just about to peek through the door and fire when the bullets chipped at the wood. He head a strange crack from the apartment and what could only be a electrical arcing.


One of Luis’s bullets had hit the TV, cracking the screen and causing a few sparks. The TV fell and landed on the carpet, still sparking.


Niko risked a glance and saw, beyond the fallen TV, the shadow by the kitchen. He got off two shots but the intruder returned fire.


The bullets had missed Luis by inches. One hit the oven behind him, shattering the glass door.

Seems a shame to f*ck this apartment up.


Niko’s next glance worried him more. The blue sparks from the TV had now gone yellow.


One more exchange of gunfire, which left Luis reloading, allowed the yellow ‘sparks’ to reveal their true identify: flames.


Niko heard the slap of the reload, and decided to move. He darted out of the door, ignoring the fire now spreading to his sofa, and made a break for the door.


Luis fired as soon as he could. Niko had darted past the TV and was heading for the exit. Luis focused and fired.


Niko heard – and felt – the bullets pass him and hit the wall. One shattered a vase that Mallorie had bought him for Christmas and another struck a lamp.

Niko fired blindly at Luis, and sprinted for the door. He knew none of his shots would hit but…


Luis tried to track the man as he ran. He then moved the gun quicker, trying to cut him down.


Niko felt the tearing of his skin on his right bicep. He ignored it, despite his arm feeling numb, and charged harder for the door. He used his numb arm to crash through the door to the elevator.


Luis followed but only managed to see the doors closing. He fired at them anyway, emptying his gun.


Niko heard the bullets ping on the metal door, but ignored them. The lift was now moving down, and he collapsed backward, clutching at his arm, which now hurt like hell.


Luis was now trapped, and the fire was spreading across the carpet with a pyromaniac enthusiasm. He stared at the elevator as he kept hitting the call button.


Niko sprinted out of the doors and onto the street. A few people were around but none paid attention to him. He had to smash the window of his Comet, and he hotwired that in seconds.


Luis had gotten in the elevator and was running across the lobby when he heard it. The building shook.


Niko saw the explosion tear out of the windows in his rear view mirror. He swore.


Luis stood on the street seeing the empty parking space.

“I should have rigged his cars.” He breathed. Niko was gone.


Click Here to read the next chapter - The Remnants of The Lost.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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I thought Niko was going to kick the bucket. The title of the chapter certainly implied it. Since anyone can die in these stories, it makes for intense reading.


I really enjoy reading the dreams of Niko. Keep it up, man.

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FYI Mokrie, it wasn't a coke deal, it was a heroin deal, just sayin


Oh and linki and he can't kill anyone off until the proloque happens again

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Mokrie Dela

Oh that's a big oversight. Oops.


I should correct that!


Thanks though for the replies, I thought interest had dried up a little so I really appreciate the interest.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


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Good job with the new chatper again!


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Mokrie Dela


Chapter Eight – The Remnants of The Lost


Rami was good at tracking people down. He’d hit the net first – so many people lived in ignorance on how much information on them was stored there – and done the usual search for Johnny. Nothing had come up – nothing of use at least. He’d learnt the history of The Lost, via the former MC’s website, and the chapter’s final days via news websites, but personal information? There was next to none. Strange that. Someone like Johnny didn’t drop off the radar like that. That took skill.

He had help. The realization had come to him but he couldn’t figure out from whom. Someone who’d owe him? Someone he’d threatened? Rami couldn’t answer that question, but it had to be someone of some power, most likely political, unless Johnny had an old friend in the FIB.

It was a trail of breadcrumbs, but the old cliché had risen. The girl. There’s always a girl.

Ashley Butler. Links to the Italian mafia? Interesting


It was a lead that paid off. Tax and Welfare records gave him an address, and he and Niko had set about watching it.

Sooner or later, Miss Butler had turned up. And she wasn’t alone.

“Yup,” Niko said, having just been woken from a nap. “That’s him.”

The next step was following him. Johnny was obviously not too worried about tails – but then, Rami had to remind himself, he was a biker, not an operator. Finally, they had a location, one that Niko found disconcerting. Rami knew why.


Niko made the call and within twenty five minutes, Marcus and Lyle arrived in a pickup truck with five other men, three of which rode on the back bed like rednecks.

Lyle didn’t like Rami or Niko. He growled at the plan, and wanted to just run in there. Idiot, Niko managed to not say. Finally an agreement was made.


Lyle and Marcus would enter on one side. The backup men would go round the back and Niko would go with Rami to the far side, flanking them.


“Oh sh*t.” Luis said, looking out of the first floor window.

“What?” Karen stood and moved to the window. “F*cking hell.” She almost screamed. “Michael!” Michael appeared with Johnny. “We’re moving. Now.”

“What?” Johnny blinked. “Why?”

“We’ve got company.” Luis noted.

“And no escape route.” Karen said, almost in a whisper. “How could I be so short sighted?!”

“How dangerous are these guys?” Luis asked. “I mean I know about the Niko guy, I even remember him now, but how dangerous?”

“The big guy and his mate are nuts. But they’re like any other gun man. Niko and the Israeli are crack shots. Why?”

“I think I know how to get us out of here.”

“Oh yeah, smart guy?” Johnny growled. It’s not your brother in danger. “How?”

Luis told him.

“How quick?” Karen asked

“I… Dunno.”

“Alright. Go. We’ll try to not die.” Karen said in panic. “sh*t, how did they find us?”

“Who cares?” Johnny was now at the window. “They’re splitting up…”

“Flanking us.” Karen was on the edge. She was genuinely scared. “Get to the roof with your brother. Get some men to join us up there. Every single man has to take good cover; don’t allow any – anyone to flank you. Get some men to the roof now – shoot them before they reach the door!”


Luis was amazed at his luck. He’d stashed his bike – he’d come on a Vader – in the building. He jumped on it and pulled out an Uzi. He gunned the engine.


Marcus heard the engine and, in seconds, the bike tore out of the doorway. The biker, whose face was hidden by a helmet, fired an Uzi as he sped toward the road.

“What the f*ck!?” Lyle called out, returning fire. He missed.


Niko spotted the men on the roof at the same time as Rami. Both ran for cover but, round the back, the backup men didn’t see anything. The gunfire took them down in seconds.


Niko and Rami, taking cover across the forecourt – saw the gunfire from the roof.

“They’re organized!” Niko observed.

“No sh*t. What gave you that idea? Who the f*ck’s behind them?”

“Biker gangs are tight. Mess with one, you mess with them all. They must have seen us coming.”

“Or Johnny played us!”

“No. If his brother’s here he wouldn’t endanger him.”

“Who was that on the bike?”

“What bike?”

“Just now, as the shooting started, someone left on a bike. Almost took out Lyle.”

“I didn’t see him.”

“Wake up Niko.”

Luis placed two phone calls on his rushed journey. He almost crashed twice, but he reached his destination quickly.

“You’re lucky.” The man said. “I was just about to take this up.”

“Whatever bro. I’m good for the money, so that cool?”

“Yeah, just don’t crash it.”

“You better tell your boss someone lifted it, this aint coming back pretty. Two grand.”

“You better be good for it Luis.”

“You know I am.” Luis said, stepping in to the vehicle. “We learnt how together, and I was there for you with that pimp. Call this even.”


The noise from downstairs was crazy. Men shouted and guns fired. Johnny had placed a phone call then, as they reached the roof, called out “Five/ten minutes.”

“I hope we can last that long.”

Johnny nodded, grabbing his gun and ushering Michael behind him.


Niko and Rami shot back at the rooftop gunmen, but their position was too strong. They got a couple, but speed was their friend. They reached the building and ran down the west side. The finally found a door.


Lyle was trying to muscle his way in, but even he wasn’t that stupid. He had to take cover, but they were wearing the men down. Marcus was with him, and they took turns to shoot/reload.


Luis watched the ground pass by in a blur. He’d never done it like this, not this fast, not this low. He saw the old casino ahead.


The SUV skidded into the Casino’s forecourt. Four men piled out.


“Who the f*ck is this?!” One of the bikers called out. Karen moved to the edge.

“I don’t know. Backup for the – oh sh*t, they’re shooting at them not at our guys!”

“Guardian angels.” Johnny breathed. Michael inched to the edge of the roof, prompting a shove from the former MC President. “Michael! Get back!”

“sh*t, Jon. They’re Luis’s guys. I remember them.”

“f*cking hell.”


Luis saw his friends below. “Please remember what I said, A.” He mumbled, guiding himself in.


“Here we go!” Karen pointed out at the sky.

Johnny laughed. “Here we go.” He pointed at the road. He reveled in the chaos that was about to ensue, and the confusion their enemy had to be feeling.


“What the f*ck’s that noise?!” Lyle shouted out. Marcus turned.

“Oh sh*t.”


“Wait.” Rami held his hand up at the door. “Is that…?” Niko nodded.


Ten choppers tore down the access road, each with two men on. The passengers all opened fire immediately. Once stopped, the others joined in. Within seconds a standoff turned into a full-on war. Even Michael, with his military experience in the Middle East, was slightly taken back.


Luis guided the helicopter to the roof. As soon as they touched down, Karen pushed Michael aboard, jumping onboard with Johnny. Terry and Clay had joined them on the roof, and they climbed on too.


“NO YOU DON’T!” Greenhorn shouted. He turned his attention to the helicopter as it tried to escape.


“Taking fire!” Luis shouted. “If you got ‘em, use ‘em!”


“They’re going, A!” Henrique shouted out.

“Alright. Let’s go ladies!” Armando led the men into the SUV. With the three passengers shooting out of the windows, Armando drove off, taking a few bullets to the tailgate. He made a mental note to remind Luis that he owed him. Big time.


Niko whispered something in Serbian and Rami said something similar in Hebrew.

“Retreat?” Niko asked.

“I’m no f*cking idiot!” Rami quickly regained his composure and nodded. They leapt the railing. Not for the first time in his life, Niko Bellic was swimming for his safety.

Marcus had to order Lyle to retreat. They were going to be slaughtered! The two men ran in the only direction open to them – northeast, to the beach. The bikers didn’t chase them.


Niko, drenched and out of breath, choked his profanity. “That was f*cking insane!”

“Yeah. They’re organized. You think it’s that mercenary we saw meet in the rain?”

Niko shrugged. “I don’t know but we can’t risk this again.” He shook his head, swearing in Serbian again.

“If the bikers and that helicopter hadn’t turned up…” Rami thought out loud. “What a f*ckup.”

Niko merely nodded.


Alarms were sounding in the cockpit. Too much gunfire. They were losing fuel, and one of the engines was bellowing black smoke.

“We’re going to have to put her down.” Luis announced.

“Where?!” Karen blurted out.

“There!” Johnny pointed to the northern end of Algonquin. “Lots of grass.”


Luis guided the helicopter down but as they approached ground it became clear that Luis didn’t have full control.

“Hold on!” He shouted. He didn’t share his worry about the landing, though it wasn’t hard to see.


The ground came up too fast for Karen’s liking. The helicopter crash-landed, more like a plane than a helicopter. The skids scraped across the grass and dug in, stopping the helicopter and causing it to roll on to its side.


Luis was the first out, pulling Karen free. Her arm was at an unnatural angle – broken, Luis knew. Her face was as white as a sheet, and she immediately collapsed to the floor.


Michael cried out in pain. Johnny, hit on the head had passed out. He came to as Luis tried to get to Michael, who had a dislocated arm. Johnny’s head was oozing blood, but he had enough to help his brother out, despite his vision being blurred.


Luis ran to the nearby high-rise and stole a car from the car park. He returned to see Johnny at the helicopter, which was now on fire.

“Terry’s unconscious.” Clay, who had a nasty gash on his arm, and judging by the position of his foot, a broken ankle, said. “We gotta take him to a hospital. No backstreet doc. A f*cking hospital.”

“Alright.” Luis nodded, ushering the men into the car. “We’ll tell them it was a car crash.”


Luis had barely guided the car to the road when the helicopter exploded. Everyone was too battered to react.


Click Here to read the next chapter - Exit Polls.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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Mokrie Dela

Well you may as well have another chapter smile.gif



Chapter Nine – Exit Polls


Niko’s boss wasn’t happy, but Rami made him see logic. There were no scolding words from the old man. Rami was giving him a look that prevented that.

Marcus and Lyle had already spoken to him. Niko was amazed they were still alive, but then didn’t cockroaches possess the ability to survive almost anything?

“We can’t try anything like this again.” Rami warned. “They’re organized.”

“What happened with the bikers? Who were they?”

Niko shrugged. “Johnny’s friends?”

“The Lost? I thought they were disbanded.”

Rami shook his head. “Only the Alderney Chapter. There’s a chapter in Broker or Dukes.”

The old man shook his head. He wasn’t actually that old, despite the nickname to which he was oblivious to, but he had experience. “Alright, we’ll come back to this. It’s all over the news, but that’s probably going to work in our favor. More gang violence. More discomfort with the current mayor.”

The man changed gears as he picked up a file. “We’re close. Preliminary exit polls put everything in our basket. The scales are tipped in our favor.

“I looked into our possible mole. I’ve discovered that one of our contacts has been compromised. I will not go into details but it’s looking like there’s links to organized crime elements within the city. I’m not convinced but I’m bringing forward the next stage of the operation. We’re so close now that timing is not too much of an issue. “The man slid a file over the desk. “Your target gentlemen. Gloves off.”

Rami looked at the file and nodded. He knew this was coming, it was just a matter of when. He memorized the faces then looked at Niko.

“Lethal force, gentlemen. Full sweep.”

Niko nodded.

The operation was, through mutual agreement, delayed to nightfall. They spent the afternoon preparing their equipment like before. Both men had a suppressed pistol and a suppressed Advanced P90 submachinegun. They had night vision goggles (not thermal) and the fitted tac-suits. Both men cleaned and checked their weapons and, once again, Niko set out to collect a car.


He’d chosen a Sentinel. He’d bought it used from a dealer in Willis and had it checked over by an agency affiliate.

He reentered the apartment and gave Rami a thumbs up. The two got changed and were shortly ready to go.

They’d spent their spare time looking at the map and blueprints of the building. They’d been there before, but the difference was tonight the building was full of targets. Not men to be avoided, men to be sought out.

Entry points were selected, and plans were drawn up.

They took their time. They left the apartment at dusk and arrived at the mansion in Alderney under the cover of darkness.

“Six hours.” Rami said, looking at his watch. He’d had to push a button to see the display, but he started the stopclock. The watch would vibrate when time had run out. He’d thought enough to disable any chimes.


They had decided to mimic their previous entry, at least for the first part. The two men climbed the wall and took their positions in the same group of plants. They both scanned the area, Niko with the night vision, Rami with his natural vision.

“Two targets.” Niko whispered with a strong sense of déjà vu. “North side, level one.”

“Confirm that.” Rami replied. “No other targets visible.”

“Move out.”


Both men split up and moved forward. Once again Niko used a line of deck chairs as cover. Rami had moved right up against the eastern wall/fence and moved along in total darkness. Both men kept their eyes on the targets and each other, using their night vision to see in the dark.

It took several minutes but they finally reached their targets.

Rami held up his hand, with a knife in it. Niko did the same, and Rami lowered his. The two men moved.


Neither target saw it coming. Both operators timed their approach perfectly and their actions mimicked each others. Both reached up and reached around their target, covering the mouth. The knives followed, plunging into the necks of the targets. Both men then dragged their target into the shadows.

“Clean kill.”

“Clean kill.”


Both men moved toward the door. They took position on the door and Rami picked the lock. He opened the door a crack and scanned the room.

Niko moved in first, scanning the area with his night vision. No body shapes were visible in the grainy image. He gave Rami a thumbs up and moved farther into the building. He took cover at the first opportunity, allowing Rami to catch up and move ahead while he watched his back.

They reached an intersection of hallways. Ahead of them the corridor continued into darkness, but to the right stood a doorway to the main lobby.

Rami pointed Niko straight ahead and the Serbian moved slowly, keeping in a low crouch. His gun led the way and he never looked in any direction without pointing the gun that way.

Niko found himself at a doorway. He peeked through the partly-open door. Two men were inside – no, three.

Niko held up his hand, three fingers extended. Three targets. He pointed out their positions. Straight ahead, near left, far left. Rami nodded his acknowledgement.

Niko moved to the door and put a hand on the doorknob. Rami pointed at himself and motioned to the left. Niko nodded, pointing at himself and ‘straight ahead’. Rami nodded then gave Niko a visible countdown. Five. Four. Three. Two…


Much like TV and movie filming, there was no ‘one’. Niko opened the door on the unsigned ‘zero’ and Rami moved in, staying low, his eyes never straying from his gun, which pointed at the first target instantly.

Niko moved in quicker and slightly higher. He fired a single round into his target’s head and adjusted his aim to the next in time to see him fall by Rami’s bullet. Niko immediately scanned the room for farther threats. Finding none he gave Rami the thumbs up. All clear. Rami nodded in agreement.


Rami took point as they exited what had turned out to be a kitchen. They’d turned the lights out in case anyone saw them exit through the next door - which, Rami saw, was a dining hall. Two of the three downed targets – which Niko had moved out of sight – were chefs. Too bad, Rami thought coldly.


With Niko covering, Rami moved out. He ventured forward into the empty dining room and took cover on the far side, looking through a large, open archway.

Niko watched through his goggles as Rami pointed at Niko then waved him over with a single sweep of a down-pointing hand. The action almost looked like he was slapping his own ass.

Niko inched forward, his gun at the ready. He kept an eye on Rami who, without ever looking at his partner, held a fist up. Stop!.

Niko moved directly to the wall and got low. One of Rami’s hands came across his body in the signal for ‘enemy’. He then held up two fingers, in a V shape. Two enemies.

Niko saw the Israeli’s hand move upward, his forefinger and thumb extending. Pistols. Then Rami turned his head slightly. Niko held up his hand in the universal ‘ok’ gesture. Rami then nodded in the direction of the two enemies. Niko nodded, pointing at himself then toward his side of the room. Rami nodded in return, giving Niko the countdown again.

Five. Four. Three. Two…


Niko moved out, keeping low. His gun came up and, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rami not moving. That meant Rami was already on target.

Rami used his peripheral vision to watch Niko’s movement. As the Serbian’s gun came on target, Rami fired.

Both men dropped within half a second of each other. They moved quickly to hide the bodies and moved on. Perfection.


They came to another hallway junction, with several targets. One turn was a bar, and the other opened up to the entrance lobby. The bar held four guards, that Rami silently told Niko, and the Serbian noted three men in the lobby.


Niko pointed at himself, then to the lobby. He patted the air, instructing Rami to get low, then waved his hand in a gesture that motioned for Rami to go behind something – something that Niko then pointed to.


They’d look a strange sight, Rami thought. Two soldiers constantly using sign language. To the informed, it was nothing but to those not familiar with their actions, it might look funny. Rami read Niko’s instruction to creep behind the bar. The Serbian then pointed at the man at the far end of the bar, and reached his arm across his chest, his hand coming over his other shoulder. Rami knew what this sign meant. He showed Niko the OK sign as he nodded.

Niko waited for Rami to move first. The Israeli moved expertly and silently. He got really low and disappeared behind the bar. Niko timed his movement to have the same pace. He reached his first target from behind and rose up with his arms out.


The man tried to call out first. But Niko’s sleeper hold was so tight the man couldn’t breathe. He was already starting to black out.


Rami too rose – from behind the bar. The area was lit here, and there was no way they could have taken the men out one by one. Seven men, taken out almost as one was no easy task.

By selecting two of the men – Rami mentally commended Niko’s tactical vision – they’d taken two men down without even starting. Five left.


The first two didn’t have time to react. The bullets were fired from behind human shields into the front of their heads.

Rami adjusted his aim and got a shot off at one of the men who was staring with his mouth open. He was slowly and absentmindedly going for his gun.


Niko took out his second target and managed to distract one of Rami’s bar friends. That gave the Israeli time to shoot at the remaining man whose attention was on him.


But the man was fast. He moved and the bullet missed. Niko was now converging with his partner and snapped the neck of his shield. He then moved quicker.


Rami saw Niko and adjusted his aim. He ignored the man who had dodged a shot and instead took out the man who was caught in between two enemies. That man died with a puzzled expression on his face.


Niko’s bullet struck the back of the final man’s head. Rami had dispatched his human shield too, and was scanning for more threats.


“All clear.” Niko offered. Rami nodded and crouched down to hide the fist body.


No more men were present downstairs. The time had come to move up.

But they avoided the stairs. Too much open space. Instead they moved to the side of the lobby where Rami offered Niko a leg-up. Niko rose, feeling very unstable but trusting the man beneath him. He reached up and grabbed at the stone wall, getting a secure hold.


The next part came hard. Not for Rami but for Niko. Rami reached up and grabbed the back of Niko’s body armor. He hoisted himself up and began climbing.


Niko, the human ladder, felt the weight and strain immediately. They knew of the patrols from their previous visit, thus any ascension up the stairs would be foolish.

If climbing the stairs was foolish, what the hell was this? Niko’s mind asked. The tactic was a little over the top, even if it helped avoided detection, unless they fell.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the weight was relieved. Rami had climbed onto the upper level and was scanning for threats.

Immediately he found one, and he fired quickly; the man was looking in their direction with a frown. He’d seen something but didn’t know what. The last thing he saw though, was the hampered muzzle flash.

Pondering the futility of their move, Niko had pulled himself up and checked his body for his weapons and armor. He looked at Rami. Was that really easier?


The revolutionaries – as Luis jokingly referred to them – met up again. Karen had obtained a safe house – one not connected to her boss, she’d said. It was an apartment in Hove Beach, chosen for its escape routes. If trouble came, they could sneak out the back into an alley, which would take them to the train station. Or they could move through the apartment building and out a window directly onto the track. Another option was the roof – a short jump across the alley would take them to the next building, where they could exit the front. Karen had set up a safe house in that building too, with weapons and several changes of clothes.

Each person sported their various scars. Luis, somehow, had walked away unscathed. Johnny had nothing more than a mild concussion, whereas Terry was in hospital with a collapsed lung, or something like that. The doctors hadn’t questioned the story of a car crash – such events were common in Liberty, and the doctors rarely bothered following the incidents up. They had too much to do to worry about that. Clay’s broken ankle had rendered him on crutches and he’d had twenty stitches for the gash on his arm, but he was at the hospital with Angus. It was unlikely they’d offer support any time soon.

Michael had only dislocated his arm, and it had been set easily enough. He was in a sling with prescribed painkillers that he wasn’t even taking.

Apart from her arm, Karen had only suffered shock – down to her stress, the doctors had said. She was very uncomfortable with being in the hospital, but nothing had come of it. Luis had voluntarily hung around, keeping an eye out for anyone taking an interest in the patients. Although the bad guys would find out about the medical care sooner or later, they had dodged another attack.


Police had pounced on the wreckage of the helicopter. Luis hoped his old friend from helicopter school wouldn’t be reprimanded, but if he had done what Luis had said, he should be alright.


“Where are your boys?” Karen asked. The doctors had given her some sedatives and, although she still refused an overnight stay, it had calmed her down. She’d had almost eighteen hours sleep in the two days since the crash. The irony was that the crash was the best thing that had happened to her in weeks, broken arm aside.

“Well we’ve abandoned that old casino.” Johnny said. “For now they’re just hanging out with the Broker chapter of The Lost. Not much point in getting another clubhouse or something now. It’d probably just get attacked again.”

“Safety in numbers?” Johnny nodded, allowing Karen to continue. “And Michael?” The two had had a discussion in the hospital about him. Johnny had finally agreed that he’d need to be taken somewhere safe.

“Where were you thinking?”

“Well first I thought with one of the gangs in the city, but then I remembered that our friends have been f*cking with them. No one’s safe. I lack the resources for a secure safe house – I have access to them, but Niko and his friends will know the codes and location. I think the best thing is to keep him hidden. He won’t like it but at least he’ll be safe. Up in Bohan I think.”

Johnny nodded. “Let’s take him up there then.”

Karen nodded. “He’ll need some men to protect him. Good ones.”


Niko and Rami continued their silent rampage through the mansion. Things got harder upstairs though. They had to move slower and hide a lot. They had to time their attacks right and hide each body. It took some time, but finally they reached the mafia boss’s personal bedroom.

A harrowing thought swept across Niko. What if, after all this, he wasn’t in?

But he was. Rami saw him through the door, after they’d taken out the guards in complete silence. He was on the bed, moving a lot.

A grin grew across Rami’s face. Niko, keeping watch on the hallway, cast an inquisitive look that Rami got, even through the balaclava. Rami brought his hand up first pointing at his eyes, then making a circle with his thumb and forefinger, and put the index finger on his other hand in that circle. He moved it in and out.

Niko almost laughed, but he held it back. He held his hands together then opened them, his fingers blossoming out to symbolize an explosion, then swept one hand across his neck.

Rami found the sign language crude, but it conveyed the message. He shrugged,

Niko looked away, thinking for a moment. He looked back at Rami.

After a moment Rami motioned with his hand, waving it upward and pointing at the door. He pointed at Niko and left, himself and right. He then pointed at Niko again, making the sexual intercourse hand gesture, and bringing his finger up. He then pointed at himself, and brought the ring up.

Niko nodded, giving back the OK sign, which he now found funny. He held out a fist, and thrust it toward the door, then opened his hand slowly.

Rami shook his head and copied the latter hand gesture. Niko nodded.


Both men took one door each and opened. The double doors revealed a well decorated bedroom, and neither of the two coitus participants noticed.

Niko and Rami moved round the bed, flanking the target. Their guns were already up, and ready.


Niko actually felt slightly bad. But, he said to himself, they were worse ways to go out. He brought his gun up.


The girl was on top, so Rami allowed Niko to fire first. The target arched his back slightly and went limp, though Rami suspected not all of him was. He followed Niko’s shot up before the woman could even react.

A shame, Rami allowed. She had nice breasts. But that was why he’d allocated the target to Niko and the woman to himself. He doubted Niko would be comfortable shooting a woman, let alone a – relatively – innocent one. Another day, the Israeli said to himself, it may have been him enjoying her wares. A shame to kill such an attractive woman, but it was what it was.


They moved out of the bedroom, Niko wondering if the woman was a prostitute or a mistress. He didn’t dwell on it.



The apartment was typical to the area. The building left a lot to be desired and the interior was even worse. The apartment itself wasn’t that bad. It had been decorated on the cheap, but it was livable. Michael wasn’t too happy about staying here, but Johnny had explained, or rather argued, that they had little choice. Johnny ultimately agreed to stay there with him, with a couple of bikers nearby. Karen gave a brief on how to behave, when to leave the apartment and how to do so.

She left with Luis, finally content that Michael was safe – safer, at least. It was ironic in a way, that a bad part of town was the safest place for him.


Niko and Rami had reemerged outside and cleared the front yard. That was almost as easy as clearing the bedrooms. They hid in the plants, and behind trees, a plant pot or the columns by the front door, and dispatched all their targets with no noise, and with no one seeing.

Finally, they exfiltrated to their car.


Click Here to read the next chapter - The Culling in North Holland.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.


Click here to view my Poetry

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