Welcome To Liberty City

Liberty City. The City of happiness, fortune, and the smut that comes with it. That is where my story began. My name is Nick, I am from Van City, Canada. My buddies and I moved from Van City to Liberty City because we were tapping the market in Van City, and we couldn't expand. Our market was growing marijuana, and frankly, it was tapped in Canada. You could pretty much grow it any where in Canada, laws were so easy that it was hard make a lot of money. No one needs to buy if they can just grow their own. So we decided to come to the sweet U.S. of A. to grow and make millions. All we brought with us was a shit load of seeds, which is legal, money and clothing. We had hook ups in Liberty, that were going to help us find a place and start our operation. It was easy.

Along with me there was Brick. A small but built man. This guy could beat you, your best friend, and his best friend down one handed. He was the most trustable guy, he was also the grower. He knew how to do everything, the right temperatures, the proper amount of light, amount of nutrition in the soil or in the water if he was growing hydro. He also was very inventive, and was always thinking of new ways to grow, and how to get better potencies. He knew his grass.

Brick's brother Bill also came with us on this adventure because he was always good at getting the money. Bill was another guy that you wouldn't want to fight with. Bill and Brick used to fight a lot so they became tough over time. Bill was good at making money because he could always score a deal and he could always sell like a Jew, or Chinaman. Bill was the brains behind the operation. He was the one who got us the connection in the first place.

There was last but not least Dillon, just a straight up dick head, or asshole if you will to everyone, but the people who know him. Dillon just has always been like that, you got used to it over time. Some people didn't however and they got their asses kicked, and it was funny. Dillon was just around for enforcement. If something went down, Dillon would be in the middle of it, causing hell for who ever is against him.

I was there because I was the technician of sorts. I set up the lights, the stands, the grow room, rigged the hydro, and maintained everything. I was there to help Brick grow as well and to help gather the necessary material to grow with like; tools, nutrition for the soil or water and such. This was an operation that I was in till the end as were the rest of them. Everything or Nothing.

Getting over the border and to the city was easy, we just took a plane, Bill's source told us that it was good, he would get us through the airport. Liberty City Airport was one of the easiest airports to get through, if you weren't Islam. It was easy, but the tension was still bad though when arrived, until we met our source. His name was Ryan , he was a young man, probably about twenty if he was lucky. Brick was the youngest out of the group so far at 22 but this man didn't look it. He might have looked a day older than seventeen.

"You Bill?" He said waving toward us. "My name's Ryan. You guy's the Canuks?"

"Yeah I'm Bill the Canadian guy. This is Nick, Brick and Dillon. You said you are getting us out of here?" Bill said. He got straight down to business. He did not want this operation to go bad.

"Yeah I got your way out follow me." Ryan scoffed and began to walk toward a terminal. He pulled out a cell and called someone. This made for a very tense moment, for we all thought simultaneously that he was calling the cops. Then he hung up quickly. "Follow me." He walked down one of the exits were an airplane would be attached to if it were to be loaded with passengers.

But there was no plane. In the distance a car and a airport service vehicle with a set of stairs attached to it were heading toward the exit. The hair on the back of my neck was standing, we had no personal experience with this man, and so much was at stake. Dillon was slowly going red, he kept looking around making eye contact with the group. Bill was making fists and was walking briskly.

"See those vehicles in the distance? When those stairs get here, climb down and get in car. The driver works for me, he knows where to take you. You owe me." Ryan said, as he handed everyone a cell phone. "My number is already programmed into the phone. You know how to contact me." He began to walk away. " Oh yeah, You owe me." He walked to the end of the exit terminal and closed it. Bill looked at the group.

"Everyone ready for this? If you are not ready, it's too late to back out now." The vehicles were now at the edge of the terminal. The stairs were just coming to a halt. The driver of the stairs looked up and mouth "hurry up" over the engine. We began our descend down the stairs, and breathe our first breath of Liberty City's air. Bill hurried over to the driver's window of the car. The car was a green Marbella. There was a little rust on the doors from stone chips, and a dent in the back bumper. The driver of the car was a small old looking man, who seemed nervous. This made us nervous.

"Get in." He said quickly. " You might not want to waste time. The post will get hard to pass when the guy whose helping us ends his shift." He looked at Bill, then looked away.

"Grab the stuff. Lets go." Bill never took his eyes off of the driver. "Dillon do what you do." Dillon walked around the car to memorize the license plate just in case, and to put our luggage in the trunk. Then we all climbed in the car and began to drive out of the airport.

"Where are you taking us?" Bill asked from the passenger seat to the driver.

" I am to take you to Bart street. In Hove Beach, Broker. Your building is number 1343. It is on the corner of Bart and Inoquois Avenue, beside a Diner. That is your new home." The driver replied as he nodded to the man at the gate, who nodded back and lifted the gate. "You shall be there soon. Welcome to Liberty City."

Bill did not say a word just looked out the window at the new environment around them. New hot women, more hot women, more clients, more strains, more need, more money. I thought about my life back home and the friends we left. Good thing a few left us their numbers so we could keep in touch, plus one of them bought us a laptop to communicate with us, so we were set.

The ride was short, yet long in an unexplainable way. We got to our new home, what a shit hole, and began to unload our things, seven garbage bags and a briefcase. Then we grabbed food from the diner next door and began to scope out the building. Brick and I planned out the grow rooms in the two story building, while Dillon and Bill set up security and the living quarters of the building. The process took several hours, and took us late into the night. We finished setting up the shelves, putting up the lights, covering the windows, and getting the wiring figured out by around two and Dillon and Bill finished around two. Dillon and Bill then walked us around the house and told us where they were going to set up cameras and pointed out the traps and vantage points in the building. They showed us that they rigged the doors with like seven locks and then some. It was remarkable. Brick then discussed with me how we were going to set up a hydro grow op in the basement later when our financial position is better. By that time it was three, and it was time for bed. After all, we had a lot of work to do.

We had to meet up with Ryan the next day to figure out what we had to do to pay our debt with him for the shit hole , so Bill dropped him a text message to se when and where we could meet up for a chat and to figure out what to do. While we waited however, Brick and I started getting the soil, nutrition and seeds mixed into their pots to start our operation. Dillon walked around and found a sports shop and bought some baseball bats for temporary protection, and Bill set up the last of our personal items, and kept on trying to get in touch with Ryan. Ryan finally replied around 3 in the afternoon.

"He wants us to meet him at his place on Dillon Street and Seneca Ave." Bill said aloud while we munched on some Chinese and passed a spliff (all but Bill hit it). " He says that he will hook us up with some one for arming ourselves and someone to help move the merchandise. Lets get a taxi, Dillon stay here and guard the fort." Bill got up and threw the last of his food in the garbage. "Be ready in 10 minutes."

Brick and I were ready and waiting when Bill came out from the living room, ready to go. We went out onto the street, it was a cool Tuesday afternoon, kind of looked crappy like it could rain. Bill hailed a taxi, and got in the front, Brick and I got in the back.

"Where you fella's headin'" said the driver, he had a Liberty accent.

"Take us to the corner of Dillon and Seneca, and try to be quick about it." Bill replied coldly.

The taxi driver muttered something to agree with Bill and began to speed ahead. I looked out the window to watch the huge amounts of crowds out there on the streets wandering. How many of them were lost I wondered. How many of them, came here, just like us hoping to find the American dream and gets lost on the way? Well I will just have to make sure that never happens to us I thought.

We came to a quick stop beside a 4 story apartment complex, and began to pile out. Bill paid the driver and stepped out of the car.

"This is the place. His apartment is 319." Bill said checking the message. "Alright, lets make this kind of quick. This little fucker bugs me and I don't trust Dillon in that building all by himself."

We walked in through the front door and began up the steps the next floors. Nobody said a word, we were focused on getting and getting out. We were new to this city, and did not want to be fucked with, not yet at least.

We knocked on Ryan's door, he opened the door and let us in.

"Hey what's up guys? You're just in time to meet Rasta MC, he is a gun importer and he has got some guns for you if you got some cash?" He said walking back into his apartment, gesturing the rest of us to follow him inside. The apartment was fairly big and open, there was a lot of posters of half naked women, some when professional, others looked like pictures from parties. There were also photos of Ryan's associates and friends. We took in the room quickly. Ryan led us into his living room where a man was sitting with about six or seven handguns lying on the coffee table. The man must have been MC Rasta or whatever his name was. Bill walked toward the table and sat down on the couch . Brick sat in the last lazy boy, so I leaned against the door frame leading from the living room to the main enterence.

"So, I heard you boys be starting a business and you boys need to protect your investmints, say?" Rasta MC said, his accent was heavy with his Rasta roots, but it was still understandable. "Whachu say big man?" handing to the man he shared the couch with a gun. "This 'ears a Glock 17. These built to take a beating, and give one too. Good on distant shots, but letal in the right hands. Only one G each mon."

Bill felt the gun and looked down the mini scope that it had on the top of the gun and then tossed it from one hand to the next. Thank god these weren't loaded. Brick was aiming his at the wall pretending to shoot something. He had guns back at home, but it was too risky to bring them with us, so he sold them to help with any extra costs. Technically his gun was buying him a new gun, which if he realized, he would love.

"Yeah I think we can do this." Finally Bill stirred after staring down the barrel. "We will take four of them. How much for the ammunition?"

"Its about-" Rasta MC began but there was a knock at the door.

"I am not expecting company." Ryan muttered as he went to open the door. Just as he unlocked it and began to open it, the door flew open and in rushed a fair amount of Triads, or what I guessed were Triads. One pointed a gun at Ryan's head, who was knocked to the ground by the intrusion.

"These the Canadians who grow?" The Triad asked, cocking his gun.

"Fuck you! The Irish Mob will get some people after you, they will talk to Ancelotti family and they will help." Ryan said defiantly.

The Triad did not smile or say a word, there was a tense moment of silence, then the Triad pulled the trigger. The gun blast shocked the room. Ryan's entrails splattered against the floor. His body fell limp to the floor and laid motionless. The Triad then saw Rasta and pointed the pistol at him.

"You are reselling our merchandise?" The Triad asked almost sounding insulted.

The Rasta said nothing, instead he pulled a handgun from under shirt, lucky another Triad saw this happening and buried a Glock 17 slug into the side of Rasta's temple. He fell off the couch to the floor, his blood staining into the rug that was sitting bellow the couch.

"Oh Shit!"

We had all ducked and found cover, but the members of the Triads were following us and telling us to lay down. They grabbed Bill and took him into another room to discuss, what I was assuming, was something along the lines as growing for someone else for less money, but welcome to Liberty City I imagined. After a lot of bad noise, Bill wandered back out and rounded us up off the guards.

"Come on, lets all leave now." Bill said quickly as we started to depart.

"What happened?" Brick asked as we sped walked out of the apartment complex and found a Moonbeam to get home with.

"This isn't ours." Brick said almost objectively, which was weird, he had a history of grand theft in Van City, what was so different about Liberty? "We jacking this? This is not worth jacking." He said trying to admire the van, but I don't think this was something he wanted to steal.

"This is ours. The Triads just gave us it. We now, starting right now. That man in there is Kiam, he will be our contact with Kenny Lee, he is the head cheese for the gun running and drug running of the Triads. Word is they are taking business from the Ancelotti family. That was who Ryan worked for, and that's who we worked for. Now, we work for them." Bill said pulling keys out and unlocking the door. "They said they have enough weapons and ammo for us in here that we can take this and unload it at home. They said there was also extra cash, and shit to help grow. They said we can keep the van to transfer the goods in.

We drove home in silence, listening to Liberty Rock Radio and whatever it was playing. It was awkward in a way due to the fact that we had just been in the middle of a gun deal when a murder happened, well two murders. Then we were held hostage for a short time being, then got told that we are now working for someone else. Then we were given a van, full of guns and growing material, that could very well be stolen, and here we are with a seat belt violation to set any Liberty City cops on us, and bring down their Nazi justice. Paranoia was creeping up my spine as we drove down Mohawk Ave. We were almost home, free from this terrible night, that was suppose to be good.

We finally pulled back into our drive way behind our building and began to unload quickly. Bill quickly ran in and grabbed some duffle bags to carry the guns and ammo in with, while Brick, Dillion and I worked with getting in all the big four foot, incandescent lights that the Triads had given us as a welcoming gift to us for staring business with them. As we were unloading we found that they had even threw in some hydroponics growing tools like a "V" grow station and enough nutrition bags to last a cold war.

After we unloaded, and got everything inside, Brick and myself loaded up a bong of the finest Canadian herb and detailed Dillon on what he had missed. He seemed disappointed that he was not there to experience this. He had always been the one for misadventure and extreme events. Hell in grade twelve, when we were developing our plans on how we were going to do this, he beat a kid until he was unconscious. He was immediately tossed out for that and charged. His hand were then considered weapons at that point and were not to be taken lightly. We figured out then that we needed him, we always knew him, but had never thought of inviting him, but when this series of event unfolded, it was something we had to jump on. It gave him a place to, because school was not it. So when we finished school and went to college to try to fit into the society we were growing up in, but with records of our childhood still haunting a few of us, we had trouble getting into college, and others could not focus, with the trauma that we were facing at home with job loss. We all said fuck the system and went here, to what we thought could be our sanctuary, but who knows it still could be, it will just take time.

Bill had walked into the room as we were explaining the situation to Dillon and then told him who we were now working for, while Brick and I loaded another bong load.

"That's off the chains man. So two guys got popped over us! We are valuable to the dope game then, we should re think the security here man. Competition might want to try to take us out, because that has probably spread to all the L.C. underground pretty quick about what the Triads just did over some Canadian growers. Others might be looking into us as an investment too." Dillon said, trying to make sense of it all.

"Which is not good for us. I will contact Kiam tomorrow to see if we will be okay here or if we should relocate, but for right now everyone should get some sleep. Keep a gun near you., just in case." Bill said walking away to go to bed. He walked over to the gun bag, and pulled out a pistol and stuck a magazine in it. "Good night boys."

"Goodnight." We all said. I thought it was a good idea so I also got up, grabbed a Glock and magazine and loaded it.

"Goodnight ladies." I said with a smirk.

"Goodnight bitch!" Dillon said quickly.

I laughed and made my way to my room in the living area. It was small but cozy, I tucked my gun under my pillow and got undressed. Maybe, no not maybe. For sure, tomorrow is going to be better. For sure, I thought as I began to fall asleep.

For Sure.