Author's Note: Many of these characters belong to Rockstar North, including the setting, the fictional east coast metropolis, Liberty City, however some of them are mine. Set in the winter following Niko Bellic's bloody revenge against Darko Brevic and Dmitri Rascalov for ruining his life. Dwayne Forge has taken over all of Playboy X's criminal empire, assuming the reigns of the North Holland Hustlers. Packie, Gerry and Derrick McReary have, in a similar manner, taken over the Torres Cartel and merged it with their own McReary Family in an attempt to return their Family to the power it once held. In Alderney, Phil Bell and his nephew Frankie Gallo have taken control of the Pegorinno outfit in place of Jimmy Peg and Ray Boccino, respectivley. Niko Bellic still cant seem to leave his past life behind him as he now owns and operates Vlad Glebov's old bar, running it for the Liberty City Bratva, now run by Kenny Petrovic. Niko has also, along with Mallorie Bellic, Roman's widowed bride, taken control of Roman's taxi company.
Liberty City Stories: Road to Ruin
The sound of the phone vibrating against the wood on the night stand filled the small apartment, which, for the most part, was empty. A few crates had been stacked up in a corner near a window, holding up a television set fixed with rabbit ears. A radio sat on a rickety table accompanied with two shoddy chairs. Aside from the kitchen and the small bathroom, there was only one other room in the small apartment. A futon couch was pushed up against the wall facing the apartment's only window and to the futon's left was a dresser and to its right was a nightstand. On the nightstand were a vibrating cell phone and half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Laying on the futon was Billy Ferrante.
Groaning and rolling over, swiping at the cell phone, he knocked it off of the nightstand and when he heard it hit the floor he struggled to sit up, bend over and pick it up. Holding it in his right hand as he scratched his head with his left, he checked the caller ID. Pierce. With his thumb he flipped the phone open and pressed the SEND button.
"Hello?"
"Yo, Billy, the fuck are you doin' man?"
"I was sleepin', why?"
"Get your ass outta bed, get dressed and get down to the dinner, me and Johnny Boy are waitin' for you."
"Yeah? The fuck are you gonna do if I roll back over and fall asleep?"
"Johnny Boy'll kick in your fuckin' door and drag your ass down here."
"I'm gonna grab a quick shower and I'll be down."
"See ya then, peace."
Billy shut his phone and tossed it back onto the nightstand, next to the bottle of Jack. Sitting on the edge of his bed for a moment, he yawned and stretched and rubbed his face and his heads with his hands. When he got up he grabbed the bottle of Jack, unscrewed the top and took a heavy belt of the whiskey to wake him up. Setting the bottle back down on the nightstand he peeled off his boxers and wife beater and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.
The water was just starting to warm up as he was finishing up and he got out of the shower shivering slightly, his teeth chattering from the cold water that he had showered with. As he toweled off, he noticed that, if nothing else, he was wide awake now.
Going into the living room, he opened up the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and socks and put them on. Opening up the second drawer he grabbed a pair of baggy, faded blue jeans and a pair of mesh basketball shorts and he put on the shorts first, then the jeans. He grabbed a belt off of the top of the dresser and looped it through the belt loops on the jeans, then pulled the jeans down so they were a little below his waist and so that his basketball shorts were pulled up higher. Opening the third drawer of the dresser he grabbed a fresh white wife beater, a clean white crew neck t-shirt and a plain black crew neck t-shirt. He put on the wife beater first, then the white t-shirt, followed by the black one. He opened up the fourth and final drawer and grabbed an old, zip-up hooded sweatshirt and pulled it on over the black t-shirt and zipped it up halfway.
Before leaving the apartment he stepped into a pair of size twelve tan work boots and walked over to the nightstand. Taking another gulp of Jack, he set the bottle down and grabbed his cell phone and slipped it into the front left pocket of his jeans and opened the drawer and grabbed his wallet, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a key ring and a Glock 17. He put the wallet in his back left pocket, the cigarettes and lighter in the left pocket of his sweatshirt and the key ring in his front right pocket of his jeans and he hefted the pistol in his left hand and ejected the clip, made sure it was fully loaded then slapped it back into the receiver and jacked back the slide, quickly checking to make sure a round was chambered. He tucked the pistol into his belt, then opened the door and stepped out in the dark, grim hallway and shut the door behind him.
Quickly he made his way down the neglected steps and pushed open the door on the first floor and headed outside. He walked down the stoop and stood on the sidewalk. A light snow was falling on Liberty City and it was only mid November. A long winter was a head of them. His breath condensed into clouds in front of his face as he got a cigarette, put it between his lips, lit it and took a drag.
He stood still for a moment, smoking and surveying the street. It was still relatively earlier, 9:30 going by his cell phone, and the streets and sidewalks of Hove Beach where relatively empty. A few cars rumbled slowly down the street, passing by Billy and a few people ambled up and down the sidewalk, though they mostly looked like winos and drug addicts, they were paying attention to their bottles or their pipes, ignoring Billy totally.
Across the street, in front of Bellic's Bar, the new owner, Niko Bellic, was getting out of his black Emperor four door and he too stood on the sidewalk. Niko took a gulp from a flask and turned to face Billy, who had been watching him the whole time. Niko smiled slightly and waved him over. The two of them had bumped into each other numerous times, mostly when Billy was sitting at the bar in Bellic's, knocking back shots of whiskey and pounding beers. Over the past few weeks Billy had started taking small-time jobs from Niko.
Billy waited for a Marbelle to pass him on the street then headed across, stepping through puddles of slush and snow. By the time he was rounding Niko's Emperor, he was smoking a cigarette of his own. "How's it goin' kid?"
"Not too bad Niko, you?"
"Same shit, different day, as you American's say."
Billy laughed and took a drag off of his cigarette. Niko was wearing a slate suit with a white undershirt and tie to match the jacket and pants and black Italian dress shoes. He reached into the back left pocket of his pants and pulled out a roll of money held together with a rubber band. "Three grand, for the last three jobs, like I promised."
Taking the roll, Billy took off the rubber band and counted it. It was exactly like Niko said it was. "You gotta count it in front of me?"
"I've learned the hard way Niko."
Niko nodded silently and took a drag off of his cigarette. "How are your friends? Pierce and Johnny Boy is it?"
"They're good Niko; I'm going to meet them now, down at the dinner."
Niko nodded. "I might have some more work for you three later if you stop by. Would they be interested?"
"We're always lookin' for work Niko." Billy finished his cigarette and stomped it out before lighting another.
"Good, I'll look around, talk to a few of my associates, and see what I can find for you and your guys."
"Thanks Niko, we appreciate it, good work is hard to come by."
"I was a good worker, like you and your friends, a hard worker too, I know where the good work comes from. Like I said, I'll look around and see what I can scrape together."
"Alright well I gotta get goin', we'll stop by later, I'll talk to you then Niko."
Niko held out his hand and Billy shook it. "Take care of yourself, in this business you can never be too careful, I learned that the hard way."
"You too Niko, I'll catch you later."
Billy headed back across the street and Niko turned and headed into the bar. The snow seemed to pick up as Billy got closer to the 69th Street Dinner and by the time he pulled open the door and stepped inside, the snow was falling hard. Billy brushed the snow that hadn't melted off of his sleeves and shoulders and put his cigarette out in an ashtray on top of a trash can. He spotted Pierce and Johnny Boy sitting at a table at the other end of the dinner before they spotted him.
"Hey, look who it is!" Johnny Boy yelled from his seat as Billy was heading towards them, "Took you long enough," He added, "We were about to order without you."
Sliding into the booth next to Pierce he briefly looked over the menu before setting it back onto the table. "What kept you?" Pierce asked.
"Ran into Niko." He stated, reaching into the right pocket of his sweatshirt for the roll of money.
"Yeah, he have something' for us?"
Billy pulled out the roll of money and counted out a grand for himself, Johnny Boy and Pierce and handed each of them a stack of folded fifty dollar bills that added up to a thousand dollars. Pierce and Johnny Boy each counted their money for themselves and, satisfied, added the grand to the money clips they carried in their pockets.
"Yo, waitress! Over here!" Johnny Boy shouted, raising his hand up and waving a waitress over.
She looked over worked and tired and sighed as she took out her pad and pen and approached the booth. "What'll it be?" She asked looking at Johnny Boy.
"Gimme an omelet with peppers, onions, pepperoni, and ham, lemme get some hash browns, an order of toast and some bacon."
"You want white or wheat bread?"
"White, with butter and strawberry jelly." Her pen flew across the pad.
"Whadda you want?" She asked to Pierce.
"Just two scrambled eggs and three pancakes." Her pen scratched away furiously and her brow furrowed.
"And you?" She asked to Billy.
"I'll have three chocolate chip pancakes, an order of hash browns, an order of bacon, an onion bagel with cream cheese and two scrambled eggs with hot sauce and ham."
"Whadda you want to drink honey?"
"Coffee, black."
"Comin' right up." The waitress replied before closing her notepad and slipping her pen behind her ear.
She turned on the balls of her heels and headed back for the kitchen. When she was out of earshot, Billy spoke up. "So what's on the menu for today?"
Pierce took a sip of coffee and set it back down on the table before rubbing his hands together. "We gotta move the rest of the shit, tonight, Richie Tominello is waitin' for his cut, says we're runnin' out of time."
"How much we got left to sell?"
"Five pounds, give or take an ounce or two." Johnny Boy replied bluntly.
"The fuck? We been sellin' it steadily, two pounds a night, how'd this happen?"
Pierce and Johnny Boy both shrugged. "We thought we were keeping' tabs on it, it honestly snuck up on us."
"How much does Richie want tonight?"
"He wants it all, all $15,400, every fuckin' dime. That and he's callin' in all our losses in his sports book."
"What the fuck? So how much is that gonna be?"
"Total or our losses?"
Billy cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest after taking a sip of coffee. "The total's gonna be close to thirty-two grand, probably over that, knowing that cocksucker Richie."
"Right, well, how much we got stacked up?"
"I got seven grand at my place," Johnny Boy replied, "you guys? How much you got?"
"I got six I think, maybe a little less. What about you Billy?"
Billy shook his head. "I don't know, I couldn't give you a number, maybe between five and seven large."
"OK, well we got $9,900 of the $15,400, the fuck are we gonna do for the other eighteen?"
"That's the thing, I don't fuckin know Billy, even if we pool all of our savings we'll probably be short."
"We can sell the rest of the shit tonight, I know we can, all I gotta do is talk to Niko and I guarantee he'll be able to find a couple buyers, fuck, he might be able to find one guy who wants it all. We'll go talk to him after this."
"That's fuckin' great Billy, but what about the rest of the money we owe Richie?"
"Fuck that, any self respecting bookie or loanshark knows you gotta give a guy a two or three weeks notice before you collect a huge payment. I don't know about you guys, but I've been on time with my dues before this, so fuck that, Richie's gonna have to wait."
"Alright Billy, well, you can tell him that tonight, ok? Tell him that fuckin' verbatim; see how long it takes before we find you in the trunk of a car down in BOABO."
"Well what were you thinkin' about doin' Johnny Boy? There is no way we can cover it all, we can get twenty thousand together, maybe. So what's Richie gonna do? He's gonna have to let us walk, no way he's gonna whack us, it'll cost him too much, won't be worth it."
"Well then he breaks our thumbs or our knees or some shit."
Billy shook his head. "I don't think so, it wouldn't be a smart thing for Richie to do, it would put us in the hospital and we'd have bills to pay, so that's just more money that isn't going to Richie and his bosses."
The waitress returned with their meals and each meal down in front of the man who had ordered it. She brought the tray back and then returned with Dominic's coffee and extra syrup. "Sorry about that wait with the coffee Hun, had to make a fresh pot. Anything else I can get you boys?"
"Don't worry about it," Billy replied, "I think we're all set, thank you."
For a moment their conversation paused as they tore into their meals. Billy and Pierce buttered up their pancakes and drowned them in syrup. Johnny Boy spread the strawberry jelly across his two slices of toast while Billy spread butter and thick cream cheese over the two halves of his bagels. All three of them sprinkled pepper and hot sauce over their eggs and then, finally, they dug in.
They finished up about ten minutes later and, after talking amongst each other for a moment while finishing their drinks, they paid their bills, left a good tip got up and left. Standing out in the blizzard Billy grabbed his pack of cigarettes, took one and passed it around and then lit his while Johnny Boy and Pierce each took one for themselves. "Where to now? Billy asked, exhaling smoke while the other two light their own cigarettes.
"Some cat owes me twenty-five hundred over in the projects," Pierce replied, heading for the driver's side door of his black Cavalcade.
Billy opened the front door and climbed inside while Johnny Boy got in the back. "Think he'll give you any shit?"
Pierce shrugged as he started the car and pulled out into traffic, heading for the Firefly Projects. "He shouldn't, it's only twenty-five hundred."
"Well what if he does give you shit; what if he's a cowboy?"
"You got your heater on you?" Pierce asked, looking at Billy, who nodded, "Good, so do I and so does Johnny Boy. This mo'fucka's been duckin me for weeks, and this is his last shot and if he doesn't got anything to pay up with, we'll drain him."
Billy laughed and smoked his cigarette, eyeing the sidewalks as they navigated the streets of Broker. By the time he finished his cigarette Pierce was parallel parking his Cavalcade into a parking spot in front of the apartment where the guy lived. Pierce put the SUV into park and took the keys from ignition and slid them into his pocket. While Billy rolled down the window to flick his cigarette out into a puddle, Pierce reached across to open the glove compartment and when he did a Desert Eagle fell into Pierce's hand. He took it in his right hand and jacked back the slide, checking to make sure a round was chambered. "You two ready?" He asked as he tucked the hand cannon into the waistband of his jeans at his back.
The other two nodded and they got out of the car all at once. While Johnny Boy and Billy waited for Pierce to come around the Cavalcade, Johnny Boy quickly checked his short barreled, nickel plated .357 revolver and slipped it into the pocket of his leather jacket, wrapping his hand around the black grip.
They followed Pierce into the apartment building and up several flights of stairs. When they reached the sixth floor the two of them followed him off the staircase and down the hallway. Upon reaching the apartment, Pierce drew his Desert Eagle and knocked on the door with the barrel. "The fuck is it?" A voice demanded from inside.
"It's Pierce; you got that twenty-five hundred?"
Before they got an answer they heard shuffling and muffled voices from within the apartment. No answer came. "I asked you a motha-fuckin question; do you got my money?"
After waiting a few seconds no answer came and Pierce stepped back and kicked the door in, busting the lock and the doorknob into steel and splinters, and the door swung inwards and with great force it collided with the wall. The guy who owed Pierce money was sitting on a ratty, moth-eaten couch on the other side of the room, facing the doorway. All that stood between him and Pierce was a coffee table. On the coffee table was a pile of coke on a tray, an ashtray with a burning cigarette, a cell phone and a Glock 17. Billy saw the pistol and immediately drew his own and, along with Pierce, aimed it at the guy.
"Where's my money Drew?" Pierce asked.
Drew sniffled and brushed coke away from his nose with his thumb. "I don't have it for you today Pierce, come back next week."
"You been duckin and avoidin me for weeks, I'm done with that shit. Where's my money?"
"I told you Pierce, I don't have it now, but I can get it soon."
"You said that at the beginning of the month. I want my money now asshole."
Drew looked at the Glock on the coffee table and then his eyes drifted towards a door that led to either a bathroom or a kitchen. Billy followed his eyes and could see two small shadows on the other side of the door; feet. "Hey, you guys want some blow?" Drew asked.
From beyond the door Billy could hear two soft clicking noises, a hammer being cocked or a safety being released. "No Drew, we don't want any blow, we want my money."
A long, uneasy silence followed and Drew just sat there looking at the three guys. Pierce and Billy were both watching him, their weapons pointed at his head and Johnny Boy stood behind them, looking around the apartment, his right hand in his pocket wrapped around the butt of his .357 and a cigarette burning between his lips. Drew coughed and edged closer to the coffee table. His right hand twitched towards the Glock and his eyes locked with Pierce. The doorknob on the only door in the apartment creaked and twisted to the right and it slowly slid open, unnoticed by everyone but Drew.
When the door was almost cleared of the frame, Drew went for the Glock on the coffee table. Pierce and Billy were faster and they both fired several shots into his torso and face, peppering him and the furniture with bullets, kicking up gore and fluffy gobs of material that filled the cushions. Billy fired the last shot into Drew; it hit him in the forehead, just above his right eye, and Billy watched as Drew's brains jet out the back of his head and hit the window and shades on the wall behind him.
By that time the only other door in the apartment has swung open and Pierce has already forgotten about Drew. Two large Mafioso looking guys are standing on the other side of the door. One is holding a Glock; the other is holding a Micro-Uzi. Both of them are dressed in silk suits and both of them are firing into the apartment's main room. All at once Pierce, Johnny Boy and Billy scramble for cover. Billy dives behind the end of the couch and Pierce and Johnny Boy take refuge behind the overturned table in the kitchen.
The two mobsters stride out into the main room, slowly swinging their Micro-Uzi's right to left, spraying everything in the room with bullets. The couch, Drew and the table in the kitchen are all peppered with bullets. At the same time the two mobsters make a fatal mistake; they run out of ammunition. Both of the fumble for fresh magazines and as they do Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy pop up from behind their cover.
Bullets riddle the two mobsters and they fall backwards in an uncontrollable jig induced by the bullets that stitch across their torsos and arms. One of the mobsters had managed to reload before being cut down and his Micro-Uzi sprays bullets into the ceiling as he crumples to the ground. Weapons empty and smoking, Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy stand up and reload in an eerie silence. Blood is still pumping from the three dead men as the three shooters quickly tear through the apartment looking for items of value.
Pierce dashes into the bedroom the two mobsters were hiding in and returns with a suitcase filled with cocaine. One bag is missing and all three of them guess correctly that the pile of cocaine on the coffee table in front of Drew's limp corpse is that missing bag. Billy pockets Drew's Glock and pats him down, quickly finding a wad of money held together with a rubber band. He thumbs through it before slipping it into his pocket. Johnny Boy grabs the two Micro-Uzis and five grand, total, from the two mobsters.
They all turn around in unison and found themselves starring down a shaky guy aiming a Winchester 1300 pump action shotgun at them. "W-what happened here?"
"Who the fuck is you?" Pierce demanded.
"I'm asking the fucking questions here." He didn't look comfortable, he looked unnerved. "What happened?"
"The motha-fucka on the couch owed me money. I don't know who these two grease balls were, do you?" Pierce asked, gesturing towards the slain mobsters and the newcomer with his Desert Eagle.
"Drew told me we were gonna stick those guys up and rob 'em."
"Oh." Pierce replied flatly.
Pierce looked to Billy and jerked his head towards the newcomer. Quickly Billy raised his Glock 17 and fired three shots into the guys face. He crumpled to the floor like a rag doll and as they stepped over him Billy scooped up the shotgun. They ran down the stairs as fast as they could and more than once they almost lost their footing and tumbled down in a heap.
When they reached the ground floor and calmly surveyed the street. It was still snowing heavily and no one looked to be concerned with the shooting that had just taken place; typical Liberty City. Pierce emerged from the apartment building first, followed closely by Johnny Boy and Billy. Without a word they got into Pierce's Cavalcade and without a second look at the apartment building Pierce pulled out of the parking spot and headed down the street.
"We gotta get off the fuckin' street; you know a place we can go?" Pierce asked, taking a cigarette from Billy's pack.
Billy tossed the pack back to Johnny Boy and thought the question over as he lit his own cigarette. He exhaled, and then nodded. "Yeah, I know a place, for now, just drive, give it a while, then head for Hove Beach."