Downtown, Vice City
"That's right, bring it over here." The biker called.
Mark had his window down so that he could hear the biker's demands. He was slowly inching his brand new and spotless silver Banshee into a desolate alleyway in Downtown. Here in this alley, the busy streets of Downtown were no more. People would not hear your screams, they would not see you running away, and probably wouldn't hear gunshots. Oh no, they would hear that. And yet here the bikers were, at least seven of them. Two of them had Ak 47s pointed right at Mark's head through the windshield, three of them were behind the Banshee (making sure Mark didn't do anything funny), one was keeping watch at the entrance to the alley, and then there was the idiot waving Mark forward with his free hand. In his other hand he has MP5 sub-machine gun.
Mark was a businessman, so what the hell was he doing here, with these people? He remembered that he bought the car from Sunshine Autos. It was almost a day after he had done that when a couple of bikers jumped him as he was heading towards the car from work. They said they wanted it, and that if they didn't get, they would kill Mark. So Mark drove it into this alley as previously arranged, and now he was trapped. The bikers could do whatever they wanted with him.
What the hell did people like the Biker Gang want with a sports car anyway? They drove bikes all the time…bike riding was their passion. Other than the drug business, Mark supposed. But he wanted to know why he was giving up his brand new car to a bunch of people who didn't drive cars in the first place.
The biker waving him forward held up his hand firmly to tell Mark to stop. Mark did so, and put the car in park.
"Alight, now get out." The biker ordered, lifting his MP5.
Mark got out of the car and when he slammed the driver side door closed it echoed throughout the alley. He waited for more instructions. He heard one of the three bikers behind him dial a number on a cell phone.
"Step away from the car." The biker with the MP5 said.
Mark stepped a few paces away from it. The biker looked towards his comrades with the Aks. "You guys get in it," he said. "You know where to take it."
They nodded, and both got into Mark's Banshee (which really wasn't his anymore), and drove off out of the alley as soon as the three bikers behind the car moved out of the way. The one on the phone had hung up…Mark wasn't able to overhear the conversation.
"Thanks for the car, man." The biker with the MP5 laughed. "We left a ride to replace it." He and his Biker friends got onto a couple of loud and obnoxious Angels and drove out of the alley. Mark looked over at where the Biker had pointed. There was a rusty Sanchez leaning up against a wall. Mark growled with anger.
He was going to figure out where his car went, and then he was going to get it back.