NYC: The Concrete Jungle.

By: Richard Barth

Disclaimer I do now own True Crime nor mention anything that relates about the game itself; This is simply a story of "True Crime". All characters are owned by myself. This story is done because of my interest and creative ideas of modern crime.

Prologue:

Somewhere within the New York Harbor.

New York City, the city that never sleeps, the city that draws hundreds upon thousands of tourist, visitors and many others from all over the United States and other counties. The symbol of the United States, the most renown city among cities, the most recognizable some would say. The towering statue of liberty, ground zero, and the empire state building some of the most renown spots within this concrete jungle; However beyond the veil of smiles and laughs, of tours and good times, it is also the city of crime, theft, murder and betrayal.

Night has fallen across the city, however the beaming lights across the various towering structures keep the city ablaze and pumping throughout the hours of sleep, bar hoping and active night clubs. Yet, this night is a special one, not for a lucky man scoring with some cheap prostitute on the corner, nor the woman striking it big across a slot machine but for the arrival of a new predator, a new tyrant, the arrival of Tommy Michael Botticelli.

Down by the Harbor the soft splash of salt water against the wooden pillars deep within the sandy underbelly was a sound all to relaxing to Tommy, the smell of the ocean as well as the cross combination of the Harbors on intoxicating stench , a blessing and a curse. Smoke rose form the cigarette with each long draw, a nasty habit many have told him but hell in the shoes he walked in, what wasn't trying to kill him? More of a question who wasn't? How dissipating would that be to his enemies, the Don, the boss of bosses of the Botticelli Crime Family die from a simple case of lung disease, he chuckled just thinking of the irony. Watching the night sky above him, his back against the cold steel of this broken shack of a warehouse, simply bought for "interrogations" one of his men told him, Tommy liked to think of it as aggressive negotiation.

The cancer stick would be tossed a side to be snuffed out by the rising tide as he turned around the corner and pushed the door open to access the interior of this lovely place.. His attire sure wasn't that of a dock workers uniform or anything middle class. A pair of black dress shoes covered a pair of long black dress shots, a sharp pair of black dress pants covered his lower body; A white muscle shirt covered the toned upper body and the various sections of inked skin along his flesh. A nice, blue dress shirtlong sleeve covered over it, two buttons undone from the top exposing a nice silver chain. His left wrist sported a Rolex and his right hand brandished a diamond ring, the man looked like a million bucks, a model among criminals, his nickname adding into his giant ego, Tommy "The Bad Boy" Botticelli.

Standing in the darkness two lights beamed down upon a body, bloody broken, yet signs of life could be detected by faint movements of his hands and head. Around him two other men were present, larger then Tommy and wide of muscle and heavier girth; They had detected Tommy, there gaze upon him as the tattered body before them began to rise from the blood soaked concrete underneath him. Tommy moved forth, towards the downed man, the two muscle bound gorillas backing away as the boss came to work. Tommy came to crouch before the head that rose to meet the sadistic green eyes of his former boss, Joe the name of the victim, the name of the blood covered body, the name of the traitor, the scum, the two face son of a bitch.

"Tomm…Tommy..you..you can't do this….uggg" Joe gathered strength to speak with each word.

"Shut up you fucking bastard!!" Tommy screamed, his hand coming down on the cranium of Joe to slam his already brutalized face into the unforgiving concrete, his nose crushing underneath the force as blood gushed from the impact, a scream of pain coming from the depths of his victims gullet.

Tommy watched him for a few seconds before speaking, his tone lower and filled with malice and anger.

"I told you Joe, don't try to fuck me over…don't fuck me over!! And what did you do? You…fucking did. You thought I wouldn't see a few thousand missing, you thought you could pocket my fucking money and skip town you pussy!" his tone rising with each passing second.

Joe attempted to rise, attempted to lift his head but couldn't must the strength or will too, knowing that his fact was mere minutes away. Tommy shook his head in disgust as he rose, turning he would make his way back to the door, his steps inching away further and further but stopped at the door.

"And Joe" Tommy yelled "Look here!" he screamed.

Joe did it! He lifted his head, pressing down weight upon his forearms as his brown eyes fell upon Tommy.

"I'll make sure my men visit your wife and kid tonight too." Tommy said simply, nodding to his men beside Joe.

"You fucking bastard!!" Joe yelled as the door closed behind Tommy. Another cigarette would be lighted, as Tommy took in yet another relaxing soothing breath, stepping away from the structure as the sound of two gunshots echoed out among the bay, silencing the thief forever..