It had been one hell of a trip. Hours, but no idea how many. He knew it was Toreno who got him to the plane, but that suit wearing psycho never said a word about where they were going or what he was doing.

Carl tried calling out for people to take the bag off his head, or answer his questions, but it seemed he was alone in this part of the plane. He could tell from experience when they were taking off, landing, stopping. But he could also tell that they weren't taking a straight trip. Random dives, climbs, banks. He could even tell the altitude sometimes, and just like he'd done a very long time ago, they were flying low much of the way there- under the radar. They didn't want this plane being spotted.

Once it came to a stop, he was dragged out, still hooded and chained, sat into a chair, and locked down to it. Only then was his hood taken off. The sunlight was blinding after being in total darkness so long. When his eyes focused, he noticed he was in a line-up of other seated and chained people, not that he recognized any. Toreno was in front of them next to an imposing, but short and fat, black woman in a suit.

"Before any of you start whining about your trips here or what we want, just shut up and listen. You've all been brought here because you possess certain skills and are essentially expendable. My superior here is Ms. Amanda Waller, head of what we call the Task Force X program. Each of you have worked for me personally, or in accomplice with someone who has even if you didn't know you were working for me. If you ever wondered which government organization you were working for, this is it. You still work for me, no you can't decline our offer, no you can't go home to your comfy prison cells, no you are probably not coming back from this job. If you DO manage it, we will reward you with time off of your prison sentences. We're taking a different approach with you lot since you have a bit more compassion than our usual candidates. But I'll hand this bit over to the person who basically owns you from here on out. Amanda." He stepped aside and gestured attention to her.

She looked back at him with a look of disdain, she hated suck ups. But at least he was good at his job.

"The job we have for you all is a simple one. Simple for you given that it involves killing a civilian with no prosecutable criminal history. Difficult for more legitimate law enforcement because he has created an empire of crime, legal teams, and public attention which has made him all but untouchable to the long arm of the law. Fortunately where that arm has its limits, it has access to a lot of hired hands able to take the blame and get the job done. All of you are common street walking scum, nothing special about you. As far as publicity will be concerned, it will look like a wealthy man just came across the wrong crowd. As for Mr. Toreno's mention that you cannot decline our job, under normal circumstances, we would be inserting a small bomb into your head which would kill you as soon as you tried to run or defy us. We've found this to be ineffective in cases like yours where you seem comfortable with your mortality and would prefer it over doing another job for us. So instead, each of you will have a lifeline. Someone who matters to you more than your own life. If you disobey an order, if you try to escape, if you try to turn on us- they will die. There is no point fussing or arguing over our methods, we have been operating longer than any of you have been alive, and we will continue far after each of you leaves our service." Her face never changed from an expression of what appeared to be one step between anger and boredom, like she wanted this job done, but it was almost a waste of her time.

A file was handed to each of the seated prisoners with exact whereabouts, status, and photographs of the person their life was now attached to. In CJ's case, his little sister Kendl- his only family who was outside living a free life.

"You will be briefed later on the more specific duties of this case. But for now, we will be releasing you in order to gear yourself for the mission. We have your personal effects from when you first entered prison, and you have your choice of weapons. Keep in mind the consequences if you think about trying anything." She held a box in her hand, with portraits on the screen, not the right shape to be a phone, but the way she held it got the message across.

All of the prisoners chains were released and they were escorted to the left where their belongings were in crates.

From behind him, CJ heard, "I don't know who the fuck you pinche putas are, but when we're done we're gonna find a way to get back at you pendejos."

No. No way. CJ turned around and saw none other than his would be step brother, Cesar Vialpando.

"Oh hell no, they got you too Ceez? Shit, I bet they watchin' Kendle for you too"

The mexican man noticed his friend and jogged over. "Oh man, what the hell have you gotten us into now, CJ? Is this who we were working for when you made me jump onto that truck on the highway?"

"I guess so man, I was just doing what the creepy ass white dude who survived the exploding helicopter told me to do. Look I'm sorry I got you dragged into this, but if we gotta do this shit to keep Kendl safe, we'll do what we gotta do. Just another job, man, we can handle this."

"Johnson, Vialpando. Over here, now" Waller called to them.

"The fuck you want. We tryin' to get strapped so we can get this shit over with." CJ got more in her face than Toreno was comfortable with, trying to stand between them, but Waller never moved a muscle.

"I figured I would inform you of your target, it might encourage you to be a bit more inclined to care about the outcome of the mission. We selected the two of you for this team because you have shown to work well together, and you have a personal vendetta with this person."

"Oh really? What, Berkley? No, Salvatore. Gotta be the only guy I know who could get so big you'd want him taken out. Fuck that, I don't give two shits if he lives or dies, he'll get his in the end one way or another." CJ turned to walk away.

"Jeffery Cross."

CJ stopped and stared ahead. Cesar wasn't sure what was going on.

"Also known by the stage name, OG Loc. He inherited everything from his former manager, including ever bit of the drug empire which extended farther than you two could have even imagined. As soon as your people were off the streets, he started rebuilding in Los Santos, San Fiero, Las Venturas, and it has been engulfing smaller organizations. He's got so many lawyers under his belt it's starting to make the mob look like a petty street gang."

CJ turned around. "A'ight, now I'm down. That little bitch is dead, shoulda done him when I had the chance."

"You can certainly try. You think the kingpin he inherited it all from was hard to get to, wait until you see the place Cross hides."