Harboring a Grudge/Script
Maureen: All I'm saying is that we'll all be judged in the end, all of your brothers... and you, Patrick. And you, Kate!
Patrick: Who's going to judge Kate? What would she win if they did? Virgin of the year?
Kate: I'm thinking maybe you can catch VD for both of us, Patrick.
Patrick: Fuck you, Katie.
(Niko enters the room)
Patrick: Sorry, Ma. Oh, there he is, Mr. fucking crazy man... you wanna beer?
Patrick: Good. 'Cause I ain't fucking got none.
Niko: Very funny. Maybe if being a drunkard doesn't work out you can be a comedian.
Patrick: Fuck off... and you, Kate, fuck off outta here.
Kate: But aren't you going to introduce us?
Patrick: Sure. This is Niko, some drug dealing de-fucking generate from some armpit in Eastern Europe. That's my ma.
Maureen: Nice to meet you.
Patrick: And this is my sister. Lovely lass. Scared to bits of life. And fucking off outta here right now, before I throw a fuckin' bottle at her.
Niko: Nice to meet you.
Kate: Likewise, see you around.
Patrick: What a girl! I think she likes you. Word to the wise, though - she don't put out. Which is convenient, 'cause if she did, I'd have to kill you.
Patrick: Good lad. You got any drugs on you, boy?
Patrick: Shit... well, probably a good thing... we got some business to take care of. Come on.
Patrick: We've got business out at the docks in Algonquin. Where's your car, man? We need a car. Okay, there's a ship coming in and we're the welcoming party.
Niko: Who are we welcoming and what have they got that makes this drive worth the effort?
Patrick: We're welcoming some of out cousins from the East, but we don't know what it is that they're bringing in exactly. All we know is that it's worth a dollar or two. My brother Gerald had word about it through this Italian, Ray Boccino. He gave us the heads up in exchange for a cut of the haul.
Niko: What makes you think that the information is legit?
Patrick: First off, I don't trust this guinea for a second. We wouldn't be working for him if our family still had the same status it did back in the day. But that's another story.
Niko: Am I going to hear this story?
Patrick: Anyone who hangs around my family hears about the old days. Just wait. Oh yeah, Ray Boccino's a slimy motherfucker. The one thing you can rely on him for is greed. I'm too small time to be worth setting up so the one angle he can be playing is the cash one.
Niko: Makes sense.
Patrick: Yeah, he'll probably try to give us a fraction of whatever this stuff's worth but it'll be a fun night.
Niko: Depends on what you think is fun.
Patrick: Stealing, gunfire, car chases, all the usual stuff.
Niko: Usual for you and me maybe. The general population, I am not so sure.
Patrick: General population. That's a prison term. You ever been inside?
Niko: Not in this country. In Europe. They do things different there. Not so much of the "fun in the shower" that you guys have here in America.
Patrick: Must have been a real disappointment. Bet a guy like you thought he was going to be real popular with the lifers. Did no one pay you any attention?
Niko: As I said, the whole prison bitch thing is an American phenomenon. It don't happen on the other side of the ocean.
Patrick: Well, you've got to do some time over here. See what you've been missing out on in your chaste European jails.
Niko: I'm going to pass on that. Send me a postcard if you do some time.
Patrick: Will do. Might even put you on the visitors list.
Niko: I'd be fucking touched.
Patrick: You'd be touched if you did some time, that's for sure.
Niko: We would see if they'd be able to touch me, I got some moves.
Patrick: You're a good man, Niko. I like you. Not in a "fun int he showers" kind of way. In a male bonding, about to go rob some people, kind of way.
Niko: I think I know what you are saying.
(The two arrive at the docks)
Patrick: Alright, here we are.
Niko: What's the plan?
Patrick: We get up on the roof of that warehouse. There should be a good view of the dock so we can scope that shit out. We're going this way. Follow me, Niko.
(They run to the back of the warehouse)
Patrick: Stick to me, man.
Patrick: We're going this way.
Niko: Why don't they make these places easier to break into?
Niko: You better be right about this shipment. If it's just fish I'm gonna be pretty irritated, Packie.
Niko: This place really wasn't made with us criminals in mind.
(If Niko takes a while to climb up to the roof)
Patrick: Come on, ain't you fit enough for this work?
Patrick: Hurry up, you bastard. What's the problem.
Niko: I get here on my own time.
(The two get on the roof)
Patrick: This is where the deal's meant to be going down. And there's the boat, right on time. See those boxes on the back of the boat? They must be bringing cloned meds.
Patrick: Yeah. Stuff that'll stop housewives cutting their wrists and make their husbands get wood. Meds, Mollis, sedatives, antidepressants - meds.
Niko: Okay, how do we do it?
Patrick: We'll wait until the track is loaded then we'll take it. Simple as that. I'll cover you from up here while you're down on the ground cleaning up.
Niko: These better be some good fucking pills. The housewives better be grateful.
Patrick: Jump down there, man. Have at 'em.
Patrick: You gotta jump down there to get at 'em, man.
(Niko jumps down and the two begin shooting the Triads)
Triad: Hey, what do you think you're doing?
Triad: Let's kill these thieves!
Triad: Stupid Americans are trying to rob us!
Patrick: Fuck off. We just want the damn shipment.
Patrick: This is import tax, deal with it.
Patrick: You fucking triad bastards!
Patrick: Take some of your anti depressants if you're that damn upset about us robbing ya.
Patrick: Shut up and let us rob you. Jesus.
(If Niko jumps off the roof)
Patrick: Don't have much in the way of coordination do ya?
Patrick: Hell, I didn't think I was coming out here with a special needs kid.
Patrick: Jesus, watch where you're going!
Patrick: You're going to hurt yourself if you keep that up, boy.
Patrick: Fuck me, that did not look pretty.
(The two get in the truck)
Patrick: Alright, Niko. You drive. I'll take out anyone who tries to follow us. We're going to Ray's lockup in Westminster of of Union Drive West. They're taking this real serious, aren't they?
Niko: They do not like to be robbed, I guess. Not many people do.
Patrick: That's a lesson I've learnt. Fucking Boccino said it'd be easy. Good thing I enjoy a good ruck.
Niko: What the hell...? Is it Chinese New Year already? There's a box of grenades in here. Pass some up, Packie - I'll give them a taste of their own fireworks.
(The two drive the truck to Ray Boccino's lockup)
Ray: The stuff all in there?
Patrick: Sure is. All safe and sound. Whole truck load of it.
Ray: A lotta wives and mistresses are gonna be happy when their men get a hold of those, huh? Whole's city gonna be hard in a few days time. Who's this?
Patrick: That's my boy, Niko. He's an absolute savior. Couldn't have done it without him.
Ray: Niko, come over here. You work for these mick bastards?
Patrick Fucking guinea.
Niko: I work for whoever's paying.
Ray: I might give you a call sometime. Get in, Packie.
Patrick: Eh, I'll catch you round, man.
(Patrick gets in Ray's car and they drive off)
Patrick: My brother Gerry's had word from Ray Boccino, his Italian contact, about a big shipment coming in near the fish market. The triads are expecting something and it smells fishy.
Niko: The fish market smells fishy?
Patrick: Shit, man. I keep forgetting you're not from here. Something smellin' fishy means that it ain't quite right. So, this shipment smellin' fishy means that it ain't gonna be what they say it is.
Niko: But, if it's going to the fish market they must be saying that it's fish.
Niko: So if this shipment is what they say it is, then it's going to smell fishy anyway.
Patrick: Shut the fuck up. You think you're a right fuckin' comedian, don't ya? Learn the damn language. Anyways, I was in Algonquin last night, partying with some sweet college chicks.
Patrick: You should come along next time.
Patrick: Sure, sure, guy like you. You'd have a good time. Unless you're hoping to see me sis again? If that's what's going through your brain then we've got ourselves a problem.
Niko: Oh yeah?
Patrick: The problem's that you'll be letting yourself in for a lifetime without getting action. And I know what happens to a man when he ain't getting any. It ain't pretty.
Niko: So, you got yourself a girlfriend, Packie?
Patrick: I do and I don't if you know what I mean?
Niko: It usually means you don't, right?
Patrick: Ha. You're a perceptive guy. I got the lowdown on you from Elizabeta. Some guys I know have checked you out as well. I think me and you could get alone. I need a guy like you on our team.
Niko: Don't you got other guys to help you out? You're from here, you should know everyone.
Patrick: That's the fucking problem, everyone in the neighborhood... hell, in the whole fucking city knows us. You can't trust people. I only trust me family, some of them at least, and people I don't know. That's why you're on this job with me.
Niko: Because you don't know me?
Patrick: That, and you saved my life. Saving someone's life has got to count for something in this fucked up age we live in.
Niko: That depends on the life, I guess.
Patrick: Tell you what, I'll snort a load of rails, fuck a lot of drunk girls, get into fights on a nightly basis and die young leaving a scarred, bloated corpse. That sound like the sort of life worth saving?
Niko: Most definitely.
(The two begin getting chased by the Triads)
Patrick: Shit, Niko. These cocksuckers are all over us.
Niko: I thought you had the luck of the Irish?
Patrick: I fuckin' do. It's just that we've got your fuckin' Slavic driving skills as well. That's if we're ever going to get out of this fuckin' jam. Put your foot down, man.
Failing the mission
Truck is destroyed
Patrick: Shit, we nearly had it. That was a fucking screw up if I ever saw one. See you round, Niko.
Post mission text message
Saw this Liberty Tree story about us and them Triads at the Fishmarket when I was looking for some hot amateur shit online. Totally killed my hard-on. Gotta change my homepage.
Post mission phone call
Francis: Niko, what's this I hear about you running with Patrick McReary now these days?
Niko: He's got work and he's a good guy. You're not planning on taking him down, are you? Lay off him for me.
Francis: I'm not planning on taking him down. He's my damn brother, you idiot.
Niko: Packie McReary, Francis McReary. It's all starting to make sense. I knew Irish families were big but I didn't expect to run into brothers in a place the size of Liberty City.
Francis: Just thank the Lord you ran into Packie and not my other brothers. Packie's just a hood but Gerald is into some serious shit. And Derrick. He's the worst. If that asshole ever comes back from Ireland, I can't be held responsible for what I'd do. My brothers ain't no good, Niko. Trust me on that.
Niko: You know what, me and Packie get along. Maybe if doing what you do is good, then I wanna be no good instead. I should meet the other McRearys.
Francis: Be careful what you wish for.
Ray: Nicky, this is Ray Boccino. The man keeping your Irish friends in liquor.
Niko: I thought I was doing that.
Ray: I hear you need work. I wanna throw you a bone, Nicky. Come over to Drusilla's in Little Italy. We'll have a little sit down.
(Dialogue which isn't heard in-game)
Patrick: Dammit, they just don't give up.
Patrick: Don't these triads have other stuff they need to fuck with?
Patrick: Get away from the fucking truck.
Patrick: Get away from the truck. Don't you know when you're beat?
Patrick: Go back to the docks where you belong.
Patrick: I just can't be bothered with this shit.
Patrick: Jesus Christ, I'm getting sick of these fucking triads.
Patrick: Let us drive in fucking peace, you cocksuckers.
Patrick: Persistent motherfuckers, aren't they?
Patrick: Possession is nine tenths of the law. Deal with it.
Patrick: Put that in your wok and fry it.
Patrick: Stay away from us, you shitheads.
Patrick: Take your defeat like real men. Fuck off.
Patrick: That's great. That's just fucking great. We lost the stuff.
Patrick: There's a billion of these motherfuckers back in China, they won't miss a few.
Patrick: There are ours now. Fuck off.
Patrick: They're fucking ramming us. Shit.
Patrick: This ain't no fireworks display. It's a fucking assault rifle.
Patrick: This is America, assholes. The strongest survive.
Patrick: You dumpling-eating motherfuckers.