'''JUNE 5, 1989''' "''Ladies and gentlemen, we are arriving at [[Vice City in GTA III Era|Vice City]],''" The female announcer's voice rang over the intercom. "''Please unfasten your seat belts when prompted and secure all your belongings. We do not assume responsibility for any lost artifacts. If you require assistance, please contact the staff at Escobar International Airport. Thank you for choosing [[Plummet Airlines]].''" [[Pete Vance]] looked out his window as the airplane began to approach the runway. It had been a long flight, least of all the reasons being several delays during takeoff, but they had finally arrived in Vice City. The view outside showed palm trees, clear weather, and other things typical of a tropical island. He wondered if it was a metaphor for the city or a mask hiding its corruption. If to be judged by the climate, it would be a fairly decent place to live, although he knew it held the secrets as to the disappearances of his brothers. Pete had been very sick with asthma for years, and with their mother [[Janet Vance|Janet]] spending all the family's money on cocaine, his older brother, [[Victor Vance|Victor]], had joined the army to pay for his medical bills. Vic had run into trouble in [] and had to find employment elsewhere. [[Lance Vance|Lance]] left for Vice a bit later too to help him, and both of them came back to Florida soon after. [[1986|Two years later]] they returned here for an errand they had kept to themselves, and both disappeared not long after. Vic and Lance had been vague as to how they obtained money, but Pete had managed to keep his condition mild with the cash, and now he was going to find out what happened to them. It was the least he could do. A rumbling was heard through the interior of the airplane as it touched down. As it slowed and finally came to a stop, Pete stood up and took his few belongings. As he left the plane and took the rest of his bags from a conveyor in inside the airport, he cleared customs a few minutes later and stepped out onto the street. There were many people piling in and out of taxis around the terminal. Almost immediately, a yellow cab pulled up on the opposite end of the road and the driver beckoned to him. As Pete began to move towards it, a second cab stopped next to him. "Go away, I'm taking this one!" the second driver shouted. "Asshole!" the first driver yelled as he drove off. The second driver stepped out of his cab and opened the trunk, Pete put his bags inside, and climbed into the taxi. The driver closed the trunk and sat down behind the wheel. "Alright, where to?" Pete took out a sheet from his pocket and read it. "[[Dakota Hotel]], [[Ocean Beach]]." "Will do," the driver said, and put his foot to the pedal. As they drove away from the airport, he said, "My name's [[Ted]], by the way." "Pete Vance." "You look one of those off-the-boats, Pete. So what made you come to Vice City?" "I'm...looking for someone." "Aren't we all," Ted grunted, honking his horn at a speeding car. "Goddamn [[Haitians]]...think they don't need to follow the road like the rest of us. So, you got employment here?" "No," Pete said. Was everyone in this town this conversational, or was it just this guy? "I was in a hurry to get here." The driver thought about it for a while as they pulled onto a bridge and left the island behind. As they approached another one, Ted turned back to him. "Hey, I know a couple of guys that can help you out. They might be a bit odd, but you'll get used to them." "I know quite a bit about odd, actually," Pete laughed. "Not a bad thing, my friend. City's getting crazier every day." When the taxi pulled to a stop on the side of the road, Ted said, "We're here." Pete retrieved his bags from the trunk, and took out his wallet. He gave Ted a handful of bills, and as the latter climbed back into his taxi, he added, "Drop by the cab depot some time, Pete. Look for [[Kaufman Cabs]] in [[Little Haiti]]." As he drove away, Pete looked around. A beach stretched from across the street to the distant ocean, and many buildings flashed with neon lights. Cars were squeezed into every available parking space, and people walking by didn't spare him a second glance. ''Welcome to Vice City,'' Pete thought. ===Chapter 1=== '''1 WEEK LATER''' "You've been standing outside for twenty minutes now," Dan, the concierge said, stepping out and lighting a cigarette. "I'm waiting for someone," Pete replied. "Wouldn't happen to be a whore, would it? Cuz usually you're supposed to pick them up." Pete chuckled. "No, someone coming in from Little Haiti. He'd be here today." "Haiti?" the hotel employee frowned. "That's in the mainland, isn't it? The bridges closed yesterday because of a storm coming in." "Really? Why would they close the bridges because of a storm? From the one week I've been here, I can see that the government isn't too protective of its citizens." "You're right there, Mr Vance," he said, offering Pete a cigar. "There's a very thin line that borders on what's legal and what's not in these parts." Pete declined it. "I'd rather not. Asthma." Dan shrugged, and put the tube back in his pocket. The former frowned. "I was hoping to meet someone over in Little Haiti today." "Well, if it's important, you can take a boat over to [[Viceport]]," the concierge said. "You ain't allowed, of course, but no one really gives a shit. The [[Vice City Police Department|VCPD]] won't be looking for you, but you'd better run fast if they do spot you. Here, I know someone down at the docks who can take you to the mainland. His name is Keith Jamison, he's down by [[Ocean Bay Marina|the piers]]. Tell him I sent you. Oh, and his bike is parked in the alleyway, I meant to return it to him." Dan handed him a set of keys. "Thanks," Pete said, "Sign me out." He walked into the alley, spotted a [[Streetfighter]], and placed the keys in the ignition. The motorbike hummed to life, and he eased it out onto the road. When Pete reached the pier, he stopped next to a worker loading crates onto a speedboat. "Could you tell me where Keith Jamison is?" "Are you a cop?" the worker asked, squinting suspiciously. "No, I need to get to the—" "How do I know you're not trying to put us inside?" Pete was slightly thrown off. "Well...are you doing anything illegal?" "Why do you want to know?" the worker began stepping towards him. "It ain't your business, is it?" He was considering leaving when a second man walked up a ramp from a parking lot. "Gus, who're you talking to?" "Some guy looking for you, Keith," Gus said. "I'm thinking he's looking for trouble." "Oh calm down," Keith said. "Just finish loading that stuff up. Come here," he added to Pete. "So, what do you want?" the man asked. "Dan sent me," Pete said. "He said you could help me get to the mainland." "Dan returned my bike, I see," Keith said. He paused for a moment. "Yeah, I can get you across the water, but it's gonna cost. You're lucky I'm about to leave right now." "I don't have a whole lot of money." Was everyone in this town after the same thing? And what for? "I ain't talking about money, boy. There'll be those Haitians waiting for us at Viceport. Those scumbags are always trying to rip off my stuff. Can you handle a gun?" "Yeah," Pete said. "Well, I'm not a soldier like my brother, but I've done a few odd jobs before." "Good," Keith said. "I'll need you to help look out for us while we're crossing. If those bastards don't kill us, and if I like how you run things, maybe I can keep in touch, look out for you." "All done here, Keith!" Gus called. "Get on the boat, boys. Just give me a second," the latter said. He wheeled his bike into the parking lot. Pete climbed onto the [[Squalo]], and stood across from Gus. "Something to bear in mind," the worker said, not looking at him. "Don't hurt to be too careful in this town." Keith came back, and climbed onto the boat with them. He reached under the seats and pulled out two [[Micro SMG]]s. He handed one to Gus and one to Pete. He ignited the boat's engines. "All set? We're out of here, boys." Pete felt the night wind blowing against his face as the Squalo churned over the waves and away from the pier. He could tell that Keith was involved with a lot of illegal stuff, and couldn't help but wonder if he'd get caught up in it as well. Was this what Vic and Lance had been doing for two years? Was it why they disappeared? And if he stuck around long enough, there was no doubt he'd find out where they went, but the problem would be getting out. "Alright, we're approaching Viceport," Keith said as the mainland finally came into sight. "Be ready for anything." There were a few more moments of silence, broken only by the sound of the Squallo cutting through the waves. Then— "Haitians, coming up in [[Jetski]]s!" Gus shouted, aiming his gun. Pete did likewise on the other side. "Take them out!" Keith said, "I'll get us onto land as quickly as I can." One of the dark-skinned pursuers raised a pistol, and Pete pulled the trigger. Crimson stains spread across his purple shirt, and the Haitian fell with a ''splash'' into the water. He could hear Gus firing rapidly. The boat lurched as Keith turned the Squalo. Pete saw more Haitians speeding towards them, and he shot as many of them as he could. It wasn't easy, since they were small targets, and the SMG wasn't especially accurate for longer range. But finally, Keith docked the boat ashore, where a group of gunmen waiting for them fired on the Haitians. The man jumped off the boat, followed by Pete and Gus. One of his guys tossed him a gun, and he joined in the firing. "Let's take them out before we unload! Protect the boat!" The Haitians leaped out of the water too, and returned fire. Pete spent the next few minutes killing them, avoid getting shot, and picking guns off dead allies and enemies when he was out of ammunition. Finally, silence reigned over the port again. Keith looked around. They lost a few men, but the Squalo's contents were still safe. "Guys, start unloading these into the vans. Pete? Can I talk to you?" Pete, who was still tense after the fight, took a breath. "You did good," the former said. "A little tentative, but you'll get over it once you start doing this again. Hey, what is it you're looking for here?" "I'm trying to find out what happened to my brothers. They disappeared three years ago." Keith was silent for a moment. "There's a guy who knows just about everything that goes on in Vice. He's on the other island though, but I can introduce you once we get back. In the meantime, I'll bet a few people here can give you answers. This place," he gestured to the empty garage they were standing next to, "Used to belong to [[Phil Cassidy]] when he ran his business in Viceport. He lives in Little Haiti now, I can take you to him. He's a war veteran, but did you say your brother was a soldier?" "Yeah." "Then there's a chance he knew him." "Vans are loaded, Keith," Gus called. "Alright, Gus, you drive the first van. Pete, you're with me. We're going to drop these guns off at Phil's place. There are probably more Haitians waiting for us, so I'll need you ready for a drive-by maybe." Pete sat in the passenger seat of the [[Pony]], SMG ready. Keith started the engine, and the vans pulled onto the road. Gus' voice came over a speaker as the vans entered Little Havana. "''Keith, I see Haitians waiting up ahead. Is there another way across?''" "No," Keith said. "let's plow through them. Pete, try to take out the drivers. The Haitians are the ones in the red [[Voodoo]]s." Pete rolled down his window, and stuck his gun arm out. He fired a rapid burst, breaking the windshield on one of the Voodoos and splattering blood on the glass. He turned to deal with a second one. Two bullets hit the van's rim, sparking off the metal and leaving holes. Pete turned back to see the first Haitian car's gunner, and shot him too. There was chaos among the street as the small convoy sped down [[Bayshore Avenue]]. But the Voodoos were faster and could easily outstrip them, and the Pony began to shake as it tried to move with a popped tire. Keith grabbed the mike. "Phil, can you hear me? We've got your guns, we need a bit of help here!" The vans turned onto another road, and off to the left was a blond-haired main holding a machinegun on a tripod. He fired at the Haitians, and several of the vehicles were destroyed by the heavy gunfire. The rest turned and left. "Thanks, Phil," Keith called out the window. "No problem," the man replied. "Put them in the garages." As Keith put the Pony to a stop inside a compound yard, Pete stepped off the van, and noticed that Phil only had one arm. The man seemed to have a naturally cheerful personality, and knew a lot of the guys. As they unloaded the crates from the vans, Keith took Pete over to him. "This is Phil Cassidy. Phil, this is...what was your name?" "Pete Vance." Phil suddenly turned to look sharply at him. "Vance? Did you say your name was Vance?" Pete nodded. He guessed why the man was so surprised. Maybe... "You...you have brothers, right?" ''I knew it.'' "Yes. Victor and Lance. They...disappeared in 1986. Do you know them?" "Course I do!" Phil said. "Vic was my brother in arms. We got through a lot together after he got kicked out. [[Jerry Martinez|Some asshole Sergeant]] had tried to kill us too, but Vic dealt with him. He was controlling all of Vice's criminal activity in '84." "Do you know what happened to them?" Phil paused. "Not personally, no. I've got a lot to worry about I didn't really go snooping. But I know someone who worked with them before. You want [[Tommy Vercetti]]. You've heard of him, right? He practically owns this town! He gets around the city a lot. His nearest place is just a block away, it's a cab depot, you can call him up." Pete returned to the others and helped finish unloading the guns. When they were done, Keith nodded to him before getting back into his van. "I'll be in touch, Pete. See you around." The two Ponies pulled out of the compound yard. Phil closed the garage door and locked it. "Hey, you got a place to stay on this side of the island?" He shook his head. "Here, climb into my truck. I'll take you to my old place. Vic stayed there a couple of nights after Sergeant Martinez got him kicked out of [[Fort Baxter]]." He followed Phil to his [[Walton]], and the latter opened the door. "You mind driving? I avoid it whenever I can cuz of my arm and all." The former nodded and climbed into the driver seat. As Phil sat shotgun beside him, he said, "the address is [[101 Bayshore Avenue]]. It's down by Viceport." As Pete followed the veteran's instructions to the house, he looked around at the mainland of Vice City. It was certainly very different from the island, and he could see some buildings halfway torn down. "Those are some empire sites Vic built," Phil said, pointing out the window. "Spent a lot of money on them too...shame it doesn't count for much anymore." When they reached Viceport, Pete pulled the Walton off the side of the road and saw an apartment with the number "101" scrawled over the wall. He climbed out, and Phil tossed him the keys. "I'll catch you later, Pete. Call me up if you need some guns or something." Pete opened the door and up the stairs into the apartment. He walked across the single room and sat down on the bed, thinking things over. Now he knew that Vic and Lance were involved in illegal activity, and it was likely he would join them. But it was rather disconcerting how no one as of yet knew what happened to them. Well, he would find out, sooner or later. Pete looked down at the bedside cabinet, and saw a picture of a pretty-looking woman. She was smiling and holding a baby, and in the background, Phil's Walton could be seen. There was another man too, balding with narrow eyes. He was looking away from the picture. Who were they? Pete sighed, and lay down on the bed. It had been a long day, and sleep finally caught up to him. ===Chapter 2=== '''6 HOURS LATER''' Pete woke up from a restless sleep, looking out the balcony window across the room. It was still early in the day, but he didn't feel he could go back to sleep. Getting out of bed, he took his gun off the cabinet and slipped it under his jacket. He paused, noticing the picture of the woman, and put it in his pocket as well. He carefully locked the door behind him, and stepped out onto the street. He hailed a [[Vice City Cabs|VC taxi]], and asked to go to the Kaufman cabs depot. The driver scowled, but didn't object. When they arrived, Pete paid the driver, and walked into a yellow building sitting on the street corner. It was a relatively small depot, and an elder lady was sitting in a small room, talking into a microphone. "...better get him there quick, he never thinks we're good enough..." she turned when seeing Pete. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here?" "I'm looking for Ted," Pete said. "Sit down over there, boy," the lady said, pressing a button on the microphone. "Cab 11? Ted, there's someone waiting for you at the cab depot. Name of..." she turned back to him. "What did you say your name was?" "Pete Vance." "I'm [[Delores]]," she said, turning back to the microphone. "Yeah, someone named Pete. Okay. Okay, hurry on back. He's a bit busy right now," Delores said. "He'll be back later in the day, but in the meantime, could you do me a favour? Just take one of those cabs over there, and go pick up this guy over in [[Downtown Vice City|Downtown]]? We're a bit short of drivers right now, I'll pay you all and too." "I've got some things to do right now," Pete said uncertainly. "I'm not sure driving a taxi's the best use of my time." "Oh come on," she insisted. "You look like you need a few greens, it's not that hard." "How much?" "Depends on you. You'll be driving him around to a lot of places, he'll pay up." He thought for a moment, then agreed. "Okay." He walked over to a cab, and saw that the keys were in the ignition. Before leaving, he remembered something. "Hey Delores. Do you know some guy called..." He tried to remember the name Phil had given him. "...Vercetti?" "You mean Tommy? Yeah, he's the muscle behind this outfit. His guys hang around here and give us protection." "Where could I find him?" "The [[Vercetti Estate]] up on [[Starfish Island]]. It's the big mansion looking over the east island." "Thank you," Pete said, closing the door and driving out of the depot. He pulled onto the road and headed for Downtown, he checked the picture and name taped onto the dashboard. Squinting, he spotted a likely-looking man wearing a red T-shirt standing next to the police station. Rolling down the window, he drove towards him, and called, "Hal Norwood?" The man turned around, spotted the cab, and climbed inside. "About damn time! Take me to [[Hyman Memorial Stadium|the Stadium]]. I'm meeting someone there." Pete tapped the location on his GPS, set the fee timer at $0, and pulled out of the lane. "You gotta be kidding me?" Hal said. "You're a damn cab driver, and you can't find your way around the town?" "I'm new." "Don't know what the hell Kaufman is doing these days...well if you don't ask too many questions, I guess I'll be okay with you." When Pete stopped the taxi next to the woman indicated by Norwood, she sat down beside him, and he said, "[[King Knuts]]." "You mean the one we passed by on the way here?" "No, I mean the one in Little Haiti. Step on it." As Pete took the cab around a loop and back out of Downtown, the woman said, "This guy is using a GPS. Why don't we just call VC cabs next time?" "Cuz Kaufman is cheap," Hal said, sliding his hand over. "And baby, you should know—" "Don't start, Hal. I ain't your wife. If I told Mary how you talk to me..." "Hey hey, I was just messing around, you know?" Hal said, raising his hands defensively. "You do that a lot, don't you? I don't suppose she would care anyway. When you get a kid from a damn whore and you marry her, you don't even give a shit that she runs around every night with other guys." When Pete stopped the cab next to Little Haiti, the woman said, "Impressive. You got us here pretty quick." She stepped out, and entered the restaurant. She came out a few minutes later, walking casually but quickly, holding a box. She climbed back into the taxi, and placed it under her feet. "Okay, we've got it. Get us to the junkyard. It's not too far away." Pete pulled the cab off the main road, and stopped at the entrance. His blood ran cold when he saw who was standing outside. Five Haitians were waiting for them. He took one hand off the wheel and reached for the SMG tucked into his jacket. "Relax," Hal said. "We set up a meet here. Go ahead, Ruth." The woman picked up the box, exited the cab, and walked up to them. They spoke for a few moments, and gave her a file. She handed them the box, and walked back into the cab. "Okay, take us to 1800 Hoarmount Avenue." Hal looked out the window. "Oh, shit..." Ruth followed his gaze, and saw three [[Sentinel]]s pull up, and a dozen men stepped out. "It's the [[Vercetti Gang|Vercetti boys]]," she said. "Step on it. They're after the Haitians, but if we stick around, they won't have a problem killing us." [[File:Vcappdt.jpg|thumb|Ruth McKenzie's apartment.]] Pete accelerated the taxi around them, and as he turned, he saw the gang members open fire on the Haitians. He took them back Downtown, and stopped outside an apartment. Hal and Ruth climbed out, the latter holding the file. "Thanks for your help, kid," she said, handing him some money. "See you around." Hal gave a curt nod, and followed her into the apartment. "What do your customers usually get up to?" Pete asked Delores as he parked the taxi back inside the depot. "I had a very interesting morning." "Oh, this and that," she said, giving him a few bills. "Here's for your time. Oh, did you want to see Ted? Ted!" she shouted. A man looking over his taxi turned, and walked over. "Hey Pete," the driver said, "how you doing?" "I'm getting places," he replied, shrugging. "You said you could help me out?" "I recall," Ted said. "Sit down," he added, pulling out two chairs beside a table. "Listen, I've been working at Kaufman's for a long time, and these last 3 years have been, let's say...very interesting. I've seen people come and go, got bullets punching holes in my cab and breaking my window, a few close calls. Say, this one guy, [[Jimmy Pegorino]], came from Liberty City and is doing some business here. They're doing some basic gun running...I hear you've met Keith Jamison, he works for Pegorino. You can find him at 175 Beachside Avenue. He pays, if you pull a few favours for him." "Thanks, Ted," Pete said, standing up. "Listen, I got to go now, I'm seeing someone." "Need me to take you?" Ted asked. "No, it's alright. His place isn't too far off." He said goodbye, and ran off towards Phil's place. The ex-soldier was sitting on the hood of a Patriot and smoking a cigarette. He waved his one arm at Pete when he saw him. "How you doing, Pete? What can I do for you?" "I'm going to be seeing a lot of people with, erm...connections. I have a feeling I'll be running a few errands for them before they answer my questions. You got any guns?" "That and more, bud," Phil said, dropping his cigar and stepping on it. He walked to the back of his hummer and opened the trunk. "Usually I charge for it, but seeing as I know you, that wouldn't be decent." He grabbed a [[Pistol|handgun]], an [[AR-15|assault rifle]], a [[Knife|knife]], and a few [[Grenades|grenades]]. Carrying it to his truck, he said, "Wait here. I've got something for you." He entered his trailer, and came out a few moments later with a blue vest. "It's got gun holsters for basically everything. Bulletproof and everything too, I pulled a lot of strings to get these imported from [[San Andreas]]." "Thanks, man," Pete said, putting it on. He put his pistol and SMG in the holsters underneath the vest, tied the grenades to the rings beside them, and strapped the rifle across his back. "So, I'm guessing you're going to talk to Tommy?" "Yes," He was about to climb into the Walton, when he remembered something. Taking the picture of the woman out of his pocket, he asked, "Phil, who is this?" Phil froze. Taking the picture slowly, he squinted at it, and sighed. "That's my sister, [[Louise Cassidy-Williams|Louise]]. Vic took quite a fancy to her. She died a few years ago, cuz of a fight against these crime lord brothers, the [[Diego and Armando Mendez|Mendezes]]. Your brother never quite forgave himself for it." Pete nodded, and started up the truck's engines. There were so many things that connected Vic to Vice City, it seemed. As he pulled onto Bayshore Avenue and headed for Starfish Island, he asked, "You talk about Vic a lot, Phil. But what about Lance?" Phil laughed. "Oh, Lance was quite a character. Not as hard-core as Vic, but you can tell a joke to him and laugh it over. Lance was loyal, knows how to look out for the [[Empire Building|empire]]. He was a good guy, hung out with Louise when Vic was too busy to. He became Tommy's partner in crime too in '86, but I'm not sure what happened to him. Tommy doesn't like to talk about it, I'm guessing something happened during that time [[Sonny Forelli|his boss]] arrived on the front door. It was three of them against [[Forelli Family|the Mafiya]] man, it was a miracle Tommy survived. We're here, by the way," he added, pointing out the window at a mansion up on the right. Pete took the truck onto the driveway, and they were stopped by a pair of gunmen. They were wearing the same colours as the ones whom had attacked the Haitians earlier, and toted Micro SMGs. One of them stepped up to the window. "Yeah?" "We're here to see Tommy," Phil said. "Tell him it's Phil." The gangsters nodded, and let them park next to a white [[Infernus]]. As Phil was searched for weapons and Pete handed over his vest, they were escorted into the estate. They walked up a set of stairs and into a room directly across the entrance. Inside, a man wearing jeans and a turquoise-coloured shirt was talking to more of the gangsters. "...you did good. Put the package in the safe, and if those Haitians try to come at us again, we'll teach them a lesson about stealing our stuff." He turned and saw the two standing outside his door. "Tommy!" Phil said, "Good to see you again!" He playfully punched the man lightly in the shoulder. "Phil, haven't seen you in a while," Tommy said, settling into a chair behind his desk. "Sit down, both of you. Who's your friend?" "I came into Vice a week ago. I'm Pete Vance." Tommy looked surprised. "Vance? Do you have brothers?" "Yes, two." The former thought for a moment. "So why are you here?" "There's questions I need answers to. I thought you could help me." "Alright," Tommy said, standing up. "I'll answer your questions, if you can help me with something." "I figured as much," Pete said. "Let me guess, you need some firepower to keep things in order around here." "That's right. I've got a lot more to run now these days, and I can't do it by myself. So, grab your guns, and wait for me outside." Pete nodded, and walked out of the room. One of the gangsters gave him his vest back, and he exited the mansion. "Why did you bring him here?" Tommy hissed as soon as Pete was out of earshot. "I saw what this guy could do, Tommy," Phil said. "He wants to know what happened to his brothers." "Do you have any idea what that bastard Lance did to me? When Sonny Forelli came here, he sided with him. I had to kill them both. Now his brother's here, snooping around. But I'm not telling him that. That would only give me something else to worry about." It was clear Tommy had wanted to let this out for a long time. Phil was speechless for a moment. When he could finally talk, he said, "I don't suppose you're at fault, Tommy. But don't you suppose you should tell Pete what happened? He deserves to know." "I haven't had a lot of forgiveness in my life, Phil," Tommy said. "There's no doubt he'd try to kill me out of revenge. But look," he continued. "Since he doesn't seem much like his backstabbing brother, and mostly because I've got more pressing issues right now, I'd rather not kill him. I'll try and get him out of Vice, but for now, I'll keep him busy." "Alright, Tommy," Phil said, walking out of the room. "I hope you know what you're doing." Tommy grabbed his [[Ruger]] off the wall, shaking his head. He followed Phil out of the mansion, and approached Pete, who was standing next to the Infernus. As Phil climbed into his truck, the latter waved goodbye. Tommy unlocked the door on his car, and climbed in. "Get in." Pete sat down beside him, and beside them, four gunmen entered a Sentinel. As Tommy drove them towards the mainland, he said, "We're intercepting a drug trade. We kill everyone, take the money and the drugs, and come back." "Sounds risky," Pete said. "Not if we pull it off properly. I got put in that situation once, and it really puts you in a hole. If we wipe out everyone involved, we wouldn't have a problem we can't handle. There will be a lot of guys there, which is why there's more of my guys behind us. I'm also counting on you to be a good shot." "In exchange for...?" "A fair share of the money we take. And some answers, which is what you came here for right?" "Yes." "You'll get them, Vance. Just don't expect to like it." ===Chapter 3=== Tommy stopped the car on the side of the road, with the Sentinel behind them. "Little Haiti [[Sprunk]] [[Sprunk Factory|Factory]]. The Haitians are doing a trade here with the [[Sharks]]. You guys know what to do." The gang walked down the alleyway, weapons ready. Two of the gunmen stood flat against the wall next to the door. Pete pulled out his assault rifle and a grenade. Tommy, hefting his gun, kicked the door in. Pete pulled the pin on his grenade and tossed it through the door. An explosion sounded inside the factory, followed by the sound of screaming. "Move!" Tommy shouted, dashing through the door. "Pete, you're with me." The occupants inside turned in surprise, grabbing their weapons. Pete aimed at one of the Sharks, and pulled the trigger. The gangster fell as bright red stains appeared on his chest. He turned and shot another who raised an Uzi. The factory was filled with gunfire, muzzle flashes, and shouting. Tommy was shooting down Haitians and Sharks from the upper levels, their bodies falling over the railings and onto the floor. Pete's vision swam. He was constantly moving to avoid being shot, and his breath was beginning to come up short. He ducked under the stairs, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. "What the hell are you doing?" Tommy shouted. "Get back out here and kill them!" Pete shook his head to clear his vision. He reloaded his rifle, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran out, firing rapidly. "Up there!" Tommy shouted. The former saw two of the gangsters trying to escape to the rooftop. The three surviving gang members ran up the stairs, led by Tommy. Pete, clutching his chest, followed as quickly as he could. A [[Sea Sparrow]] was waiting on the rooftop, and the Haitians were trying to take off. Tommy and his gang were firing at it, but the driver fired the helicopter's cannon. One of the Vercetti gunmen took a shot in the shoulder, and fell. He screamed as the gun raked him with bullets, and jerked before lying still in a pool of his own blood. Tommy and the other two dove behind some crates, while the cannon fired at their cover, chipping away at the wood. Pete opened the door, firing his rifle at the Sparrow's driver. The window cracked, splattering blood on the inside of the helicopter. Caught by surprise, the last Haitian jumped out, aiming his gun at him. Tommy stuck his Ruger from over the crate, and shot the gunman. The latter let out a stray shot that missed Pete's head by inches, and collapsed, dead. Tommy walked over to the body and picked up the suitcase the Haitian was carrying. Walking back to Pete, he demanded, "What was that all about?" Surprised, he replied, "What do you mean? I just saved you guys." "You dove under the stairs during the gunfight," the crime lord said, uncharacteristic anger showing in his voice. "What, did you panic?" "No, I—" "Were you shot?" "No. I have asthma." There was silence. "You have asthma," Tommy repeated. "Yes." "What the hell are you doing here?" "Look Tommy, it's not that bad. It only crops up sometimes, but it's nothing serious. These Haitians didn't get away because of me, so if you have a problem with that, you don't have to bring me along next time. I can still get things done decently, I'm not as affected by it so much, thanks to my brothers. I want to find them, and you're going to help me." Tommy took in his words. "Let's talk in the car," he said. "You two, get back to the mansion." The gunmen headed back downstairs. "Follow me," he said to Pete. They returned to the Infernus, and the former drove them back to Phil's place. "You did good, Pete. Your condition is unfortunate, but you know how to handle things." He stopped the car at the compound yard, opened the suitcase in the backseat, and gave him a handful of money. "That's your share. And about your brother...Vic." Tommy told him everything about what happened during the drug trade in Viceport. When he was finished, Pete was silent. "That was when you were set up." "Yeah. [[Ricardo Diaz|Diaz]] decided he didn't need Vic and Lance anymore, and got word of their deal with us through one of Vic's acquaintances, [[Gonzalez]]. I killed Gonzalez afterward, and of course Diaz." "Shit. After all he's done, especially for me..." "You'll have to find the answers to Lance somewhere else. There's no good asking me." Pete could tell Tommy was hiding something, but didn't know what his reasons were. As he nodded, and climbed out of the car, the crime lord drove off back onto the street, his headlights fading into the streetlights. Pete turned, saw a light on in Phil's trailer, and walked towards it to tell him everything about what happened. "Pete, there you are," Tommy said as he walked into the mansion, once again escorted by the Vercetti gang members. "Get your guns, we're going to jump some Haitians." "They said the tornado's coming through Vice today," Pete said, surprised. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" "Starfish is going to be hit worst," Tommy said, shouldering his Ruger and walking down the stairs. "It's better we go into town for a while anyway." Pete took his vest back and followed Tommy and the gunmen back outside. It had rained heavily all morning, and the sky was filled with dark clouds, as if ominously warning anyone outside of the coming gales. He sat down in the Infernus' passenger seat. They headed again towards the mainland, with the gang Sentinel following. "Now, we're taking out the Haitian leader," Tommy said. "She goes by the name '[[Auntie Poulet]]'. I've been trying to get rid of her for 3 years, but she's got a tight grip on Little Haiti. We're meeting up with another gang, the [[Cubans]], to help us. Their boss, [[Umberto Robina]], has very...explosive ideas. He's run some gangs out of business by planting bombs in their key locations. They'll give us some backup and firepower, because Poulet knows we're going to make a move soon." They stopped outside a house in Little Havana, where half a dozen vehicles were parked around the street. Tommy waved at a Hispanic man, who grabbed a gun and ran next to the window. "Tommy! You ready?" Umberto asked, with a detectable Cuban accent. "We'll get two vans coming with you, and the others are going to roadblock any means of escape. You find her and fill her up with bullets!" Tommy nodded, and the Cubans hurried into their respective Ponies and [[Cuban Hermes|Hermes]], covering themselves from the sleeting rain. Tommy led the Sentinel and the vans towards Little Haiti. Pete looked out towards the distant bridge. A dark shape was seen in the north, slowly becoming larger. The trees around them bent and swayed. He tore his gaze away when he felt the car stop. He climbed out with the others, and Tommy said, "There's a [[Sniper Rifle|sniper rifle]] in the back of the Sentinel, Pete. Use it to take out some of the guards, then follow up and we'll find Poulet." He beckoned the gunmen to follow, and Pete quickly took out a sniper rifle from the car's trunk. Whether the Haitians would be great in number, or because Tommy knew he was better off away from the action, it was a good tactic. As he climbed to the top of a small house, bracing his back against the protruding roof so he would not be affected by the wind, he cautiously raised the rifle. The Haitians quickly spotted the incoming gunmen, and they immediately engaged. Pete spotted the purple of a T-shirt in the thick rain, and pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked back, but saw blood spurt and one of the enemy gangsters fell. He aimed again, killing another Haitian. He didn't stop until he was out of ammo, discarded the empty gun, and slipped down the roof. Taking out his assault rifle, he stepped up to Tommy, who pointed at a small wooden hut. "She should be in there." Pete raised an eyebrow. "In that tiny place?" Ignoring him, the crime lord stooped and walked towards the door. He kicked it in, aimed his Ruger inside, and lowered it. "She's gone!" "Maybe she decided to leave because of the storm," Pete said. "Not likely. Follow me." Tommy walked back towards the car. One of the Cubans frowned. "Hear that, amigo?" Pete strained his ears for sound over the pouring rain. He looked up. "Who would fly a helicopter in this weather?" Tommy looked up too, and ran inside the Infernus. "Pete! Get in, now!" The former complied, and barely had time to shut his door before the crime lord stomped on the gas, taking them away from Little Haiti. Above them, gunfire chipped at the cement around them. The helicopter took a right and away from the island. Tommy stopped the Infernus at the street, and ran out. "Follow me!" They were at a police station. Pete followed him down a narrow lane, and up a flight of stairs to a rooftop. Tommy busted the doors open on a [[Police Maverick|VCPD Maverick]], and climbed in, hotwiring the helicopter. "Maybe we should call this off," Pete said. "Screw that!" Tommy shouted over the splashing of the rain. "If she gets away, we're not going to get another chance at this!" The Maverick sputtered to life, its blades slicing at the rain that fell onto it. Careful not to lean out, Pete looked around at the skies. "There!" They flew towards the speck hovering over a bridge. To their north, the tornado was seen to be closer. Much closer. "There's a tether in the backseat!" Tommy said, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of rain falling and the helicopter's blades. "Strap yourself to it and take a shot at them!" Pete tied the tether to himself, took a deep breath, and leaned out, grabbing onto the bracing with one hand and holding his assault rifle with the other. Trying hard to aim onto Poulet's helicopter, which was constantly swerving, trying to avoid them and gain control over the powerful winds. In the window he saw a Haitian piloting the aircraft, and a chubby elder woman sitting beside him. Behind them, 2 more Haitians were standing on the rims of the [[Armadillo]], holding rifles. "Shoot them, damn it!" Tommy yelled. Pete pulled the trigger, and the rifle jumped in his hand. He couldn't see whether they made contact with the other helicopter or not. Swearing, he tossed the rifle onto his seat, unholstered his Micro SMG, and fired. The smaller gun was much easier to steady, and he emptied clip after clip into the Armadillo. They were caught in turbulent winds too now, and Tommy was trying to hold them still. A bullet from one of the gunmen skimmed across Pete's shoulder, and he flinched, nearly letting go. Gripping the bracing tighter, he fired at the Armadillo's tail rotor. Poulet's helicopter jerked, and sputtered. It began to spin, losing altitude. It crashed into one of the bridge supports, its blades still slicing at the concrete. It plunged into the ocean, and a moment later exploded, spraying boiling hot water high into the air. "Got her!" Pete said. Their Maverick lurched, and his grip on his gun loosened. It fell out of sight and into the water, and without waiting another moment, he pulled himself back into the helicopter. "Damn!" Tommy shouted, trying to regain control over the aircraft. Pete wiped the water off his face, and was mute. The tornado was almost on top of them, and they were caught in its winds, slowly but surely spinning towards it. Tommy turned the Maverick as hard as he could. They were constantly being blown around from its horizontal spin to its vertical one, for a sickening moment plunged rapidly towards the ground and towards a fiery explosion. But they finally managed to break away, flying as fast from the tornado as they could. Tommy landed them back in Little Havana, where the others were waiting for them at Umberto's place. Tommy and Pete ran out of the helicopter, and into the safety of the house. Both were breathing deeply. As the storm passed over them, the crime lord wiped himself dry with a towel and looked at him. "Well done, Pete. You're really something." Pete took off his vest, and rubbed his finger across the groove where the bullet had skimmed across. "Thanks, Tommy. But don't ever make me do that again." ===Chapter 4=== '''12 HOURS LATER''' The storm warning was over the next day, and the bridges were re-opened. When Pete returned to the Dakota Hotel, he found Dan and asked, "Can I use the phone? I need to make a long distance call." "It'll cost ya," the concierge said, putting the phone on the counter. Pete gave him some bills, and the former raised an eyebrow. "Errands went well for you on the mainland, then?" he said, pocketing the money. "You've no idea," Pete said, taking the wireless phone and walking over to the lobby. He sat down, and dialled the number. Someone picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" "[[Aunt Enid]], it's me, Pete." "Pete! Nice of you to call in. How are things going down in Vice City?" "I...great. I've...made a lot of friends." "That's nice, dear. Have you found out anything on your brothers yet? Pete sighed. "Yes, auntie. Vic is dead. I don't know about Lance." "Oh my," she whispered, shocked. "How did it happen?" "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it out." He couldn't tell her. He couldn't. "I...I'm sorry to hear that. Well...enjoy your stay in Vice City." "Are you alright, auntie? You seem worried." "No, everything's fine. I'm just...I can't believe Vic is...how am I going to tell your mother..." Pete's fist clenched. "She doesn't care. She doesn't give a shit about us. All she does is waste our money on cocaine and [[Javier|Mexicans]]." "Pete! Don't talk about your mother like that. She may have made mistakes, but she's still a good person." "Yeah. You're right, auntie. I'm sorry, I'm just really frustrated with everything that's going on here." "Okay. Keep in touch, Pete." "Bye, auntie." Pete hung up, and sighed. He stood up, put the phone back on the counter, and headed upstairs to his room. There was a knock at the door. Pete walked over and opened it. "Phone for you, Pete," Dan said, handing it to him. He nodded thanks, and answered as the concierge left. "Hello?" "Pete Vance," a familiar female voice said. "This is Ruth McKenzie. You were my driver when I was running my...errands with Norwood." "So I recall. What is it, Miss McKenzie?" "Call me Ruth. Anyway, I've heard about what you've been getting up to with Tommy Vercetti. Took out the Haitian leader in a storm, that right?" "Yes." "You must really be one tough son of a bitch then, Pete. Keith Jamison tells me you're looking for something. Maybe we can help. Find us at 175 Beachside Avenue in Washington." "You mean..." Pete thought for a moment. "Jimmy Pegorino's place?" "That's right. You seem to know a lot about Vice City considering that you're new here. See you around." He headed downstairs, grabbing his weapons and vest. He called Kaufman for a cab, and returned the phone to Dan. After waiting outside for a few minutes, a taxi pulled up, and he climbed inside. "Hey there, Pete," Ted said. "You got here fast," he replied, impressed. "I just dropped off a fare in Vice Point. Where to?" "175 Beachside Avenue." "Will do," the taxi driver said, pulling the cab out of the lane and turning right at the first street. "You know," he added, "I've got the same fare giving me that address several times. Let me guess...you're going to see McKenzie?" "Yes," Pete said. "She seems trustworthy." "She is," Ted said. "But I ain't so sure about that partner of hers, Norwood. Something off about him." When they reached Pegorino's place, Pete paid Ted, and knocked on the door. It was answered rather quickly, and McKenzie was waiting for him. "There you are. Come in." She closed the door behind them, and led him to the living room. Sitting around the room were Hal Norwood, Keith Jamison, Gus, and a dark-haired man he guessed to be Jimmy Pegorino. As Ruth sat down on a couch, and gestured for Pete to do so as well, he sized up the man. Pegorino had black hair cropped short, dark, narrow eyes, and a long, narrow chin. He had a rather tense look about him. "You must be Pete Vance," he said. "Heard you started leashing yourself to Vice City's criminals soon as you got here." "You're right," he replied. "I'm Pete Vance." "You're real smart, Vance," Pegorino said, sounding neither amused nor irritated. "I can't give you a way in, I'm only here on business from Liberty. But I've got a few jobs for you that'll pay well." McKenzie stood up. "I think I'll take Pete into town for a while, show him around now that the storm's passed Vice City." Pegorino nodded. "You might as well bring him along for that errand when you're done. Tell me if he's got the balls for what I'm planning." "We'll meet you Downtown," Keith said, as Pete followed her outside. "See you later, Ruth." Two of Pegorino's gang members were waiting for them outside in a [[Moonbeam]]. As Pete and McKenzie climbed into the backseats of the van, she said, "Take us to [[Sunshine Autos]]." The driver scowled, but pulled the minivan onto the road and towards the mainland. Two of the four bridges connecting Vice City's two islands required major repair, and traffic was heavy as they were squeezed through Starfish Island. When they reached the auto shop, the gang members dropped them off and drove off. McKenzie showed him inside, and said, "It's time you got your own car while you're here in Vice. Here's the owner." A large, short-haired man wearing a dark suit watched them as they approached. "This is [[BJ Smith]], the car dealer." "Ruth, what can I do for you?" Smith asked, shaking her hand. "Getting a car for my friend here," she replied. "You got anything...flashy?" The man thought for a moment. "Tommy brought in a decent-looking [[Phoenix]] a few weeks ago, I fixed it up. It's sitting in the downstairs garage. Wait one, I'll drive it out for you." He walked out of the showroom, and down a ramp. Pete turned to McKenzie. "Tommy? Does he mean Vercetti?" "Who else? He owns quite a few of these places around Vice. Drops by every now and then to collect his revenue for the protection he's giving." "So that's how the powerful get rich here. They find the vulnerable and suck them dry, where they're not in a position to complain." A fast-looking car moved up the ramp and stopped outside the door. Smith climbed out, and beckoned at them. "Take a look." Pete whistled. The Phoenix looked like a cross between a muscle car and a sports car. It had a slim, laminar look to it. The exterior was painted jet-black with a bright yellow stripe down the middle, and on the back were two huge exhaust pipes. The interior had a pair of leather seats. "Quite an eye-catcher," Smith said. "I spent a lot of time on this thing." "How much?" Ruth asked. "Twenty-four thousand." "What do you say to eighteen?" "I say that ain't worth all the work I put into this." "Twenty, then." Smith thought for a moment. "Alright. But only cuz it's you, Ruth." As McKenzie pulled out her wallet, Pete said, "No, I'll pay, I've brought enough—" "Pete, if you spent all your earnings on this car, you'd be broke," she said. "Don't worry about it. Just consider yourself owing me a few favours." As she handed the money to Smith, he said, "Key's in the ignition. You can go see [[Earnest Kelly]] if you want to save yourself the trouble of registering the car." As Pete took the driver's seat, and McKenzie climbed in beside him, he said, "Thanks, Ruth." As he drove through Little Havana, he remembered something that had been on his mind for a while. "What's your relationship with Hal?" "I'm his sister-in-law. His brother, Ian, was my husband. He died not long ago when we were caught in a gunfight with the Haitians. It was thanks to Hal that I got out alive." "You're taking it well," Pete said. "A lot of people I know would do something stupid like slaughter a whole bunch of Haitians or shut themselves out from the world." "I lost a lot of people in my life," McKenzie said, with a bitter laugh. "I'm getting used to it, really. But when we drove away on a Voodoo with a cracked windshield and a punctured tire, it was hard to know Ian wasn't with us. I was in shock." "Is he...is Ian, anything like Hal?" McKenzie gave a slight smile. "I know what you're asking. Ian was loyal, trustworthy, and never broke a promise. He wasn't the best on manners, but he knew what was right...as far as we can go. Never took a life if it wasn't necessary. Didn't have a great past, but he was trying to get over that. So, no...he wasn't anything like Hal." There was an awkward silence as they entered Little Haiti. "So, who's this Earnest Kelly?" Pete finally asked. "Guy who works at the [[Print Works]]. He'll get you some papers and ID for your car in case you get pulled over by the cops or something." "Let me guess," he said, driving them out of the dealership. "Tommy owns the place?" "Correct." "Figures." When Pete came back out of the Print Works with the ID documents, McKenzie said, "Now let's get you a phone. There's an [[Electric Boulevard]] in Downtown, it'll be our last stop before we get started on that errand." "I think I'll pay for the phone," he said, turning onto Bayshore Avenue and heading Downtown. "So what's this errand?" "Pegorino wants us to eliminate a bunch of cops that tracked him down from [[Liberty City in GTA III Era|Liberty]]. He got a manslaughter charge last year, and they're coming to bring the VCPD some files on him. We need to ambush them as they land on the VCPD rooftop, take the files, and bring them back to his place." "Not really a smart idea, they're just going to send more officers and put a lockdown on the area." "Pegorino's not hanging around too long, he's leaving in a few weeks. We just need to keep them busy until then." They stopped at a small store on the Downtown streetside. Pete entered the store, selected and purchased a phone, and came out a few minutes later. As he walked back up to his car, a Kaufman cab pulled up to them. Ted waved at him from the driver seat, and Hal, Keith, and Gus climbed out of the taxi. "We should get going," Keith said. "I'll go with Gus up to the fire station rooftops. Pete, you're in the opposite building. Ruth, Hal, you're on the helipad. You guys will take their helicopter and hightail it back to Pegorino's." "Pete, put your car in the parking lot over there," McKenzie said, pointing. "I left a sniper rifle for you under the [[Sabre]] parked there. get into the adjacent building and give us some covering fire from the rooftop." Pete nodded, and climbed back into his car. "Make sure you don't fall off," he heard her add as he pulled it into the parking lot. Pete found the stairway that lead to the top of the opposite building, and placed his Sniper Rifle on the roof's bracing. Looking through the scope, he saw Ruth and Hal hiding under the helipad's ramp, Uzis ready. Keith and Gus were also crouched on the rooftop of the fire station. After waiting for fifteen minutes, a group of policemen walked up the ramp and stood next to the pad. After another ten minutes, the sound of a helicopter became more apparent as it filled the sky. A Maverick landed on the helipad, and four black-uniformed officers stepped out. When they stepped up and began to talk, Ruth rolled a grenade from behind the ramp. There were distant shouts of alarm, followed by an explosion and bodies flying everywhere. When the smoke cleared, Pete saw her jump out from cover with Hal and spray the survivors with gunfire. He took aim, and fired, taking an officer through the head. He heard the cracks of Keith and Gus' sniper rifles as they took down 2 more. When the helipad was cleared of enemies, Ruth and Hal climbed into the helicopter. A moment later Pete's phone rang. "We've got the file," she said. "They've stowed it inside the helicopter. Catch you guys later." The Maverick took off and flew away from the mainland. Pete dropped the sniper rifle, and headed back downstairs. As he pressed himself flat against the alleyway, he saw Keith and Gus running across the street. The sound of sirens were heard and they turned to fire at the police cars coming towards them. Keith managed to make it across, but Gus fell behind and was forced to duck back to his previous position, firing his pistol. Keith ran up to Pete. "Go back your car, we need to get out of here!" "What about Gus?" he asked. "Nothing we can do for him," the man panted. "It would be suicide if we tried anything. Let's get back to Jimmy's place, we need to lose this heat!" Pete sighed. "Alright. Let's go." They made it back to the parking lot without trouble, and gave the VCPD the slip by going out via a back lane. Pete reached Pegorino's house, and Keith climbed out. "I'll call you later, Pete. If Gus is still alive maybe we can find him." ===Chapter 5=== Pete's cell phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket with one hand while driving, he answered it. "Hello?" "Pete, this is Tommy. Get over here to my place, pronto." "Should I even bother to ask how you got my number?" "No. Hurry it up!" Pete ended the call, put his phone back into his pocket, and made a turn that would take him to Starfish Island. He parked his Phoenix next to Tommy's Infernus, got out, and was led into the mansion. Inside, Tommy was pacing back and forth, while a man in a pale purple suit was sucking something powdery through a straw behind him. "Tommy, what's going on?" Pete asked. The crime lord turned to him. "We've got some trouble," Tommy said angrily. "This Cockney idiot, [[Kent Paul]], told the Haitians about you. Your name, what you've been up to, where you live, all that." "Tommy, I always told you that guy was no good," the second man said, looking up. "He's been really—" "Shut up, Ken," he snapped. "Paul's always managed to find out about everything that goes on in Vice City, and he tends to get drunk at times. Put the two together, and this is what happens." "So why are you telling me this?" Pete asked. "You've got your uses," Tommy said. "Besides, they know you're with me, and next thing we know we'll be up to our heads in a gang war. I've stayed out of this for the past few years, since I've got a lot to do." "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy! You know what you should do?" Ken cut in agitatedly. "Jump him! Teach him a lesson! In fact, I'll—" "Lay off the crack, Ken," he said. Turning back to Pete, he said, "There's no point trying to get rid of Paul. Like you, he's got his uses, and the Haitians already know about you. So, here's what you need to do. Head over to the Malibu Club, find him, and bring him back to me." Pete nodded, and left the mansion. Starting up his Phoenix's engines, he drove to Vice Point and found the Malibu Club. Entering, he asked a security guard about Kent Paul, who pointed at a man with spiked-up blond hair. He walked around the group of people clustered around the dance floor, and approached the man. "Hey mate, looking for something?" Paul asked, with an easily detectable British accent. "You're coming with me, Kent Paul," Pete said. "Sorry?" he said, "Can't hear you, music's real loud and everything—" Pete grabbed Paul by the sleeve, and pulled him off his stool. Dragging him forcibly outside, ignoring his protests, he pulled out his pistol and put it to his head. "There, can you hear me now?" The latter trembled. "Put the gun away, mate! Just tell me what the devil you're doing!" "I've got a gang of Haitians getting ready to jump me," Pete snarled. "And it's all because you couldn't keep your mouth shut." Giving Paul a shove with the gun, he said, "Get in the car, no arguments. You try anything and you're dead." The two climbed into the Phoenix, the former watching him carefully. As Pete drove them back towards Starfish Island, Paul, who seemed to regain some of his nerve, said, "Blimey, you're just like Tommy. Couldn't ask a chap politely, could you?" "You know, it's funny you mention him," he said, still sounding irate. "I think we'll pay Vercetti a visit right now, and you can explain to him what the fuck is wrong is you." When they reached the Vercetti Estate, Pete walked Paul up to Tommy, who said to the latter, "Inside my office." When the man was out of earshot, the crime lord said, "You need to find some place to lay low for a while. There's [[Skumole Shack|this shack]], up in Downtown hidden above a store. There's a staircase leading up to it, and it's close to this bar, [[The Greasy Chopper|the Greasy Chopper]]. There's some Bikers that run that place, go talk to [[Mitch Baker]]. He'll give you some jobs to do, and he's also got security which you might need if those Haitians come after you." As Pete followed Tommy's directions, he decided to get to Downtown via Vice Point rather than Little Haiti. He parked his Phoenix down an alleyway, and casually walked up the staircase leading to the roof. He spotted a small wooden shack, with a worn-out door and a single bed. The windows were boarded up. He entered the confining space, closing the door behind him, and lay down upon the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. Sighing, he quickly managed to fall asleep. '''6 HOURS LATER''' Pete was awakened by the sound of his phone ringing. Sitting up in bed, he found it in his pocket, and pressed the answer button. "Hello?" "It's Keith. Meet me outside the Downtown police station, don't ask any questions." "I think I already have a pretty good idea why," Pete said, putting on his vest and stepping out of the shack. It was a short run to the police station, and he quickly spotted Keith. "Thanks for coming so quickly," he said. "You bring your gun?" "Always," Pete said. "Good. We're going to—" "Bust out Gus?" he asked. "Yes," Keith said, pulling out an SMG. "Come on." "If you cared so much, why'd you leave him?" The question caught him by surprise. He turned to face Pete. "I had no choice..." "You could have done it," the latter said quietly. "But you were saving your own skin." "Look...I...the whole place was swarming with cops!" Keith sputtered. "We'd have all been killed—" "Keith, it's something called loyalty," Pete said, sitting down on the sidewalk. "Listen..." "Get up, Pete!" he said. "We've got to go in there now!" "Put the gun away," he said calmly. "Sit down, relax, and listen to me. The VCPD are just holding Gus for now. They can't do anything to him until he gets a trial. Now, my guess is, he either didn't have family, or he didn't tell the cops about them. Either way, it won't make a difference if we wait or not." "What are you trying to say?" Keith asked. "Tommy told me something the other day..." Pete said. "He used to work for this crime family, the Forellis. Ever since the 60's, he was one of their best gunmen, always got the job done. Then, something nasty happened in 1971. His boss, Sonny Forelli, set Tommy up. He was forced to kill eleven people instead of one as he was supposed to, and got landed in prison until '86. You see where I'm going with this?" "I didn't set Gus up!" the former said angrily. "It went wrong, we didn't get out in time." "You left him behind. And all he did was follow your orders. Look at me, Keith. Would you believe that five years ago I would be too sick to get around, let alone come to Vice City? I'm doing all kinds of shit now, and the reason I'm here is because of my brothers. I never knew how hard Vic and Lance had it down here, doing illegal stuff to make money. Chances are, they're not here anymore. But the least I can do is find out why. I'm here," Pete repeated, standing up. "because of my brothers. They worked hard to scrape up the cash so I can keep my condition mild, and now I'm going to find out what happened to them. So, if you're going to work with me, I'll warn you now not to desert me like you did to Gus when I need you." "Okay," Keith said. "Can we go now?" "We can't go in there alone," Pete said. "Like you said, we'd both be killed." "So what the hell do we do?" "We'll go down to the Greasy Chopper and call some Bikers for backup. Tommy put me in touch with them." Pete entered the bar, which was dimly lit and had the scent of cigarettes, and called, "Is Mitch Baker here?" A muscular man with black short-sleeved clothes stepped out of another door. "Who wants to know?" "Tommy Vercetti sent me. I need some help." "Prove it," the Biker said. Pete pulled out his phone, called Tommy, and handed it to him. "Tommy? Mitch here," the gangster said. "Yeah, some guy here called Pete says he needs my help. Alright. Okay." Mitch hung up, gave the phone back to him, and said, "Tommy says you can do a few jobs for me if you need money." "Can this wait?" Pete asked. "I need backup right now, I'm trying to get someone out of prison." Mitch thought for a moment. "You must be good if Tommy sent you. Alright, I'll get a couple of boys down to the station. But come see me again later cuz I'll want something in return." Pete and Keith met up with a trio of Bikers waiting outside the police station. "You Vance?" the lead one said. "I'm [[Zeppelin]]. We're going in with you. We've got an escape vehicle in the back, and some boys circling the area to cover you guys. Once you have your buddy, we'll split up, capiche?" "Capiche," Pete said, pulling out his assault rifle. Keith slowly opened the door, and they ran in. Pete shot the officers behind the desk, and they hurried down the hall. Zeppelin turned a corner and fired his twin SMGs, followed by the sound of screaming. He ducked behind a wall as bullets flew towards him. Keith lead Pete towards the cells, picking a key card off one of the dead officers. He quickly found Gus, and said, "We're getting you out, Gus!" "Keith, we have company!" Pete called, as he heard the sound of footsteps upstairs. "Open all the cells in this section!" Zeppelin shouted. "It'll cause a distraction!" They opened the doors one by one, and the criminals quickly ran to seize the weapons dropped by fallen officers, and ran towards the exit, rushing towards the street. Some of them were hit by bullets and fell, and others threw themselves on the officers, shooting and beating them to death. Keith and Pete led Gus towards the back exit, and saw an Admiral waiting for them with a Biker in the driver's seat. They entered the vehicle, and they sped out of the alleyway and onto the street, where multiple Bikers on [[Angel]]s were causing havoc for the officers. The prisoners were running in all directions, and Pete saw Zeppelin jump onto his bike and join the fray. Keith stuck his SMG out the window, shooting down a cop. They both sat back and were breathing erratically as they drove away from the scene and into the relative silence of the night. Pete had a tight feeling in his chest as his asthma started acting up again. Finally, Gus said, "Thanks for coming, Keith." "Pete was right," Keith said. "I never should have left you there." "Where to?" the driver asked. "Viceport," Keith replied. "Gus, you'll be staying at my place for a while." "Shit," the Biker said. "The cops are going to be all over us by tomorrow. You'd better be as good as Vercetti said, Vance." "Oh, don't worry," Pete said, the constricting feeling in his chest vanishing. "That and more." [[Category:Fan Fiction]]
A fansite or fan site is a website created and maintained by fans of a particular person, technology, or cultural phenomenon. The phenomenon can be a book, television show, movie, comic, band, game or similar.
Thousands of GTA fansites exist, ranging from small one-person news blogs to community-edited wikis to massive downloads databases to forums with hundreds of thousands of members.
Many GTA fansites include the latest news about the games, contain detailed game information (including cheats), offer downloads (usually modifications), allow discussion in forums and gather opinions in polls. Some fansites include unofficial non-canonical stories about characters and places in the GTA series (such as The Untold Stories). Almost all GTA-related forums have wishlists in place
There are no official GTA fansites - that is to say that Rockstar Games has not approved or endorsed any of the sites. However, Rockstar do provide fansite kits for download on their website, which contain screenshots and logos for use on fansites. They also send "care packages" to the webmasters of the largest sites, which contain items such as t-shirts and window stickers, as appreciation for the continued hard work and dedication in promoting the series and creating online communities.
List of Fansites
This is a list of the most notable fansites by type, game and language.
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