Max Payne

Part 1: The American Dream Prologue-The Murder

In the back seat of a moving car, I am cut loose from the city. It watches me pass with sharp neon eyes. The night has gilded the skyscrapers in silver. Every brick wall is covered with graffiti. The image of a green 'V' with a syringe in the middle, repeated over and over. 'V' for Valkyr. The drug. The red and blue of the police car's lights flash on the white snow. Something goes clank in the night, and is close enough to a gunshot to take me back to the beginning. My last meeting with Alex before I went undercover. Sitting in a crummy diner opposite me, he had grinned, a friendly bear, but I had seen it in his eyes. We hadn't been on the side of the winners in a long time. He was playing it safe, talking shop:

" To get to the source, we need to get to jack Lupino." he said. " For that, you need the trust of all the small-timers in the Punchinello family. Joey and Virgilio Finito. Lupino's number one man, Vinnie Cognitti. All the wise guys"

It must have been there. The sign of things to come. Clear in the fear in Alex's eyes, in the darkness of the coffee I was drinking, in the way my Beretta dug painfully into my side. But we were blind to it then, closing our eyes to it. Refusing to see it. Later that night, Max Payne as a DEA special agent was erased from the vast network of databases, and replaced with a new version of me: Max Payne, the career criminal with a mile long rap sheet.

A couple of days ago it had all come crashing down. Pushed over the edge, I found myself in the cold no-mans land between right and wrong. No road signs. On a crash-course with the mafia. With nothing to lose. The NYPD was trailing me with the dotted line of empty shell casings that I left behind. I was trying to look for answers, but every gunshot, instead of closure, was just a hole with more questions leaking out of it. A spreading labyrinth of questions, like a pool of blood spreading on the snow.

The car stops in the traffic lights. Outside, the light paints the snow red, like the whole city was in flames. But inside, in the shadows of the car, it's all done in blues. I know I'm lying to myself. No amount of painkillers could keep this ache away. No lie can hide it. I'm not really in the back seat of this car. It didn't start in the diner with Alex. It started three years ago in my bedroom. And I haven't left that room since. The killer dead at my feet on the floor.

Michelle lying on the bed. Bullet wholes like rubies on her chest. Our baby's cry cut short, the absence of it heavy in the air. That gunshot, like an exclamation mark to end it all, the answer to all my questions, had already rung out a long time ago, even its echoes gone. The gun was fused to my hand from that moment on. That room inside me wherever I go.

Especially as the city presses close to the windows of the car, its monstrous heartbeat under the tires. My eyes squinted in the rear-view mirror. My hands numb and held awkwardly behind my back. Everything that came after that room is a hopelessness, a chaotic swirl, rising nausea that tastes like rust in my mouth.

"Stand by, 10-10, investigate a reported disturbance at Aesir Plaza." The dispatchers voice rang out over the in car radio.

"Dispatcher, verify address…"That was a police officer. Some unknown pawn.

"That's Aesir Plaza, repeat, Aesir Plaza"

New York City. Present Day. Two Hours Ago.

" Shots fired on rooftop. An assault in progress at Aesir Plaza. Repeat, an assault in progress." Another police officer.

"It's a war zone down here. 10-85 dispatcher, need additional units, need additional units now! Officer in danger, officer in danger." That was the final police officer. The only police officer with urgency in his voice.

" 10-5, please repeat. 10-5, all units, all units, emergency, officer in danger, Aesir Plaza, repeat Aesir Plaza, all units…"

They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that had led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger, and then it was over. To make any sense of it I need to go back three years. Back to the night the pain started. I was still in the force back then. NYPD, Manhattan, Midtown North Precinct. Hell's kitchen.

" So when are you coming to work for me, Detective Payne" That was Alex. A good friend of mine. A DEA special agent.

"You'd make me work undercover in some hellhole. Sorry Alex, Michelle and the baby come first. See? My last smoke. It's bad for the baby."

"That's you, Max, a regular boy scout."

" See you, Alex."

" Still on for poker Thursday, right?"

" Like taking candy from a baby"

Life was good. The sun was setting on a sweet summers day, the smell of freshly mowed lawns, the sounds of children playing… A house across the river, on the Jersey-side. A beautiful wife and a baby girl. The American dream come true.

I walked in through the front door. " Honey, I'm home!" I called. Dreams have a nasty habit of going bad when you're not looking. The sun went down with practised bravado, twilight crawled across the sky, laden with foreboding.

"I'm home!" I called again." Michelle, honey, anybody home?" I didn't like the way the show started. But they had given me the best seat in the house. Front row centre. My wall was covered in graffiti. "What the Hell!". Even in New York it is strange to find an interior wall covered in graffiti. Especially in a cops house. Something ugly had been tattooed on the wall, a map of things to come. It was a poison syringe, a magic tag full of diabolical meanings. The phone started to ring. I went across the hall to answer it.

"Listen! Someone's broken into my house, call 911." I shouted.

" Is this the Payne residence?" The voice asked.

"Yes, someone's broken into my house, they're still here, you've go to-" I was cut off by the voice.

"Good. I am afraid I cannot help you." The voice was deep, gravely even, but it very feminine.

" Who is this?" I asked. The woman hung up. I heard the phone being put down. " Hello?" I tried in vain to get a reply. No such luck. Well, not for me, anyway. I decided to see what was going on. I cautiously edged up to the halfway point of the stairs.

I heard voices. Shouting.

" Shut the fuck up, bitch. I'll fucking kill you" The voice made me swell up with anger. Some bastard calling my wife a bitch. Then, the straw that broke the camels back. I heard my baby crying. I ran the rest of the way, with my Berretta ready.

"Michelle!" I screamed. Three shots. Three loud shots. I didn't care anymore.

" No! No! No, Max!" It was Michelle. I ran to the bathroom door. It got stuck part way. I tried to see what it was, but I already knew. I just wanted to hope that it wasn't. I saw my wife's almost lifeless body lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. She let out a groan.

"Please…." She gasped, fighting to stay alive as long as possible. Three more shots and she was gone.

Rage is a good and a bad thing. It gives you adrenaline, which pumps your body up to its limits. But, sometimes, you are so consumed in rage it makes you crazy. So crazy you don't know whether or not you can go on or not. This was my rage now. My hand started to tremble and I fought to keep my tears back.

Then, I heard his voice come through onto the landing like a knife into my heart.

"I'm going to heart you! I'm gonna hurt ya! It's coming. Death is coming. You're going to die!" I step into the bedroom. I had my Beretta ready. He stepped out of the bathroom.

" Freeze! NYPD!" I scream. I hold out my weapon as if to say 'yeah. I'm not pissing about. You killed my wife, now surrender or I'll kill you and any other of your little friends here.' He fired two shots at me and missed. I fire at him and hit him in his skull. As soon as the bullet makes contact it explodes like a mini atomic bomb on his head like it was Hiroshima. Then, I take in my surroundings. First I see the overturned baby cradle. That hook makes me dizzy. Now for the K.O. I see blood everywhere. I knew that the unthinkable had happened. I had lost everything that meant anything in my life. I had nothing to loose. I broke down.

" No, no, please God, no …." I cried. But I hear something that makes me stop. Movement in the bathroom. I went in there. And saw another guy.

"The flesh of fallen angles" said the guy. That meant nothing to me apart from an even better excuse to kill him. Two shots and he fell like a dead weight. Then I saw her. Michelle. Dead. Worse than I imagined it could be.

" No, no, no God, no. Michelle, oh baby…." I could not restrain my tears anymore. I took my dead wife in my arms and sat there and cried. " Noooooooooo!".

That was three years ago. Everything had been ripped apart in a New York minute. The killer junkies had been high on a previously unknown designer drug. Valkyr. V. After the funeral, I told Alex I would be transferring to the DEA. It took us three long years to get a break in the Valkyr case. Then, finally, two months ago, a dime-dropper tipped us off that Jack Lupino, a mob boss in the Punchinello crime family, was trafficking. I went undercover, infiltrated the worst Mafia family in New York.

Chapter 1- Roscoe Street Station

I came in from the cold and dark. Outside, the city was a cruel monster. I'd been slowly working my way up from small-time to the big fish, trying to get the source of the drug. Alex and B.B. were my only contacts in the DEA …. The only ones in this decrepit city who knew I was down here. My phone rang.

" B.B. here…. Something urgent has come up with Jack Lupino. You need to meet with Alex, immediately…. At Roscoe Street Station." I hadn't had a face to face with Alex sine I'd gone undercover. Outside the mercury was falling fast. It was colder than the devils heart, raining ice pitchforks as if the sky was about to fall. Everyone was running for shelter like there was no tomorrow. It didn't get any better when I got to the subway. The feeling hit me like a point blank shot straight in my face…. Something was not right about this. My Beretta stirred nervously under my coat…. But the train doors had already shut behind me, and I was in for the ride…. Next stop, Roscoe Street Station, and Alex.

The station was drenched in gloom. Alex was like a ghost, nowhere to be seen. I'd have to look for him. I decided to check a door marked 'employees only'. I instantly noticed a trail of blood leading through to the next room. I saw the source. It was a transit policeman lying facedown in a pool of his own blood. Death was in the air at Roscoe Street Station. I'd have to find Alex fast. I decided to raid the lockers for things I could use in the near future. All I found is ammo and painkillers. The pills would hold back the pain for a while, but eventually it would all come rushing back. I decided to backtrack to the platform. I had an eerie tingling in my bones as if something was up.

When I reached the door back to the platform I froze in my tracks. I heard voices. Obviously thugs. Two of them. I decided to listen for a while

" Wasn't Jake supposed to take care of this?"

" He an' Mickey are havin' too much fun takin' care of the cop up there."

" W-w-what's the plan?"

" Simple, kill every mother-loving bastard that gets off the train" I opened the door a crack. I saw both of them. Standing with their backs turned away from me.

" Sweet…. Didn't the train go already?" That was the first thug.

" No idea, lets just wait and see" I had heard enough. They were going to commit murder and I was not going to stand idly by why they did it. I opened the door enough to get a clear shot, but the door creaked loudly and the thugs turned around to see who was there. I greeted them with shots. Bam bam. Both dead or just out cold from getting shot. Either way I knew that I had put them out for a long time.

I decided to go upstairs. I heard two more thugs. These guys must be Jake and Mickey. Five shots went off suddenly.

" Yeah, he's dead alright."

" Hey, that's me you're talkin' to" I stepped in. They had no chance in hell of surviving. I journeyed on around a corner.

" Yo, guys…. Yo, guys…. Hey! Quit kidding around, you hear me? What is this, a joke? Hey! Anybody! …. Answer me! …." Obviously calling to his friends I had just killed. I sidled around the corner to see how many was there. One. Behind some steel bars. Precisely where he should be. I iced him good. I headed right down two flights of stairs. A right and a left and then I stopped. A cough. These guys weren't good at concealing their place. I crept up behind him and pistol-whipped him to death. I decided to stop for a soda of some kind from the vending machine at the end of the corridor. The machine was busted. It didn't take money. I gave it a swift kick and a soda popped out. I ventured on cautiously incase some mobster was about to jump me. I headed through a turnstile. It led into a control room. I saw a control panel on the wall next to a door. I tried a code. The security panel let out a mocking cackle. I would need the right code. I turned right to where I noticed some stairs leading down. I waited to hear if anyone was there. There was. Two henchmen.

" You're askin' for it." Dissension in the ranks. A bad sign.

" Take it easy." The other man was trying to calm him down. I leapt out and caught them unawares with two shots they were history. I suddenly heard someone behind me. He had a shotgun. Bam. One shell narrowly missed. I had to act fast. I ducked the second shell and shot wildly into the area of where I guessed this man was. With luck I hit that sumbitch. I headed down a corridor to my left and into a yellow transit car. It had no power to it. I got out of the transit car. For Alex, I had ended up in the middle of a big-time crime operation.

. I heard voices. Angry and frightened. Someone was in trouble.

"Kiss it goodbye!" was the remark of a mobster.

"No, don't!". I looked through a crack in the door. It was a transit cop, sitting on a chair, helpless.

"Go to hell!" The mobsters last words. I burst in. the mobster turned around to face me and I shot him. Time to reload my gun.

"You saved me, man!" the words of thanks sounded good in my head.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

" A massacre…. These armed thugs came out of nowhere, we need to get help. I can make the call from the control room, one floor up. Can you take me there?"

"Sure…. Sounds good. Follow me."

"Frankly, I'm too scared to go to the control room without you and your gun."

"I don't blame you." I backtracked to the control panel. The transit cop punched in the code and the door granted access. I stood to the side as he opened the door.

"Home free this way…" the transit cops' last words.

"Yo, look out" A mobster was there and the transit cop bit the dust. I sidled to the edge of the doorway and jumped out only to find nobody there. There was another door. I opened it up and found the man who killed the transit cop with three of his friends. I ran for it and stopped next to the control panel. Three of them had followed me. I shot two shots. The first killed one of them via the windpipe. The second shot went diagonally through one and into the others kidneys. I ran back to the room where they had congregated. There was one huddled in the corner trying not to be noticed. I crept up to this guy as quiet as a mouse, and I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at me and then started to beg for mercy.

"Please…. Please don't shoot me!" He begged me.

"I hate beggars" I said calmly. He opened his mouth and I shot him in it. Blood spattered on the walls making a masterpiece of goriness. I proceeded into the control room. I saw the power restore button in the centre of the control room. I pushed it. The train lit up like a Christmas tree, the power was back on.

I made my way back to the transit car and got in. To my right was a steering wheel. I took control of it. The transit car moved forwards. I saw a barricade up ahead and I realized that the brakes were shot. The transit car crashed.

" so much for being subtle" I was on my guard since I had made quite a loud noise. Everyone could probably hear it. I walked into darkness and heard a noise. Three men. Not entirely happy to see me, but then again, who was? Three men, three shots. BAM! BAM! BAM! Cautiously, I headed up a staircase to my right.

Chapter 2- Live from the crime scene

The staircase led up to a rusty door. Dare I open it? I did. The rusty door led to an abandoned part of the station, closed off since the early 40's. Something big was going down at Roscoe Street. Maybe that's why Alex had wanted to meet me here. Maybe not… one way or another, I was going to find out. Trash was everywhere. Wooden planks and broken glass littered the space I walked. The glass crunched as I set foot on it. To my right was a dead end. In front of me was a dirty looking wall. To my left was a corridor. I had no choice but to go down it. I continued until I saw a turning left. I paused in hesitation and cautiously went down the passageway. Trying to keep low but not crawling because of the glass, I edged my way but halted as a felt glass crunch under my foot. Then a voice.

"Did you hear something?" asked the first mobster.

"Nah, take it easy" the second mobster replied him almost instantly

"No. I'm sure I heard something. I'm going to investigate." I saw a light and acted quickly. I searched in my coat pocket for a silencer. I quickly attached it and waited until I could get a shot. Blood trickled down the side of the head of the mobster. The other mobster ran and walked into my trap. I finished him off with ease.

I walked forward into the area where the were sitting. I saw some crates and cracked them open to find out what was in them. Ammo. I decided to take some since I was running low. I saw a door to the right and decided to open it. I stepped to the side as I opened it. As I opened the door I saw a man with a balaclava over his face.

" what the he-" I cut his phrase off with a shot from my berretta. I took the silencer off of my berretta. There was a staircase leading down. I followed the staircase down and I found another tunnel. I followed the tunnel right and stopped when I saw some lights. It must be part of the station.

"Lupino…. Now that's spooky." I heard one of, I imagined 3 gang members.

"Jack Lupino, yeah, spooky. But also, it's like the failure count is rising." That was a different member.

"Ah, I wouldn't joke about it if I was you." That was the third different member. A surly American-Italian accent. A phone rang. I jumped in surprise and checked my own phone in worry.

"yeah…."It was the third thugs' phone. I wiped sweat from my brow in relief. The thug hung up and told the rest what had happened.

"The station's not secured. Someone decided to play hero upstairs."

" that's all we need" that was the second thug. I decided now was my time to make my grand entry. I took my steady aim and shot at the third thug. A direct hit in the heart sent him down. I shot two more shots. One ricochets off a light and hits the wall. The other hit one in the hear and went through into the other thugs arm. Two out of three were dead. I hate not being perfect so I helped the wounded thug up and punched him in is head and sent him back down to the platform. I proceeded to kick him until he was on the track, which was live. He writhed in agony as he was electrocuted and all that remained was a charred corpse. There was a flight of stairs up ahead which I decided to take. I headed up these. Suddenly I was shaken by a blast.

"what the hell was that!" I exclaimed. I headed up the next flight of stairs and then a right. Another flight of stairs. I heard more mobsters arguing.

"All done here… gimme the detonator" the first mobster said.

"What are you talking about!" the second mobster enquired.

"The detonator." The first mobster replied

" I thought you'd bring it"

"You was supposed to bring"

"Yeah, right" this could go on forever. But it didn't. The first thug pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and blew the second mobster into oblivion. My cue. I pulled my gun out on the mobster who yelped in pain as a bullet went into his windpipe. The blood went over the walls. I heard footsteps coming behind me. I picked up the mobsters sawed-off shotgun and took care of business. I turned round and noted the bomb without the detonator. I was going to have to find the detonator.