DISCLAIMER: Grand Theft Auto is owned by Rockstar Games. Though all of the characters I've come up with here are from me and me alone.

NOTES: This story is based on New Orleans, Louisiana. It's one of the most diverse, and exotic cities in the country. There's also a great history of crime and corruption in the city. It's home to the mafia, street gangs, corrupt politicians, and poliecemen, and lots of other things that I thought would make up the perfect backdrop for a GTA game.

The begining of this story mentions a hurricane passing through the city. I have nothing but the greatest respect and sympathy for those who experienced the devestation of Hurricane Katrina. I live only two hours west of NO, so I got to speak to some of the evacuees firsthand. They're good people. I don't mean to make light of their situation with this story. I just thought having a hurricane pass through would be a good way to leave the main character homeless and penniless. Plus, I thought it would be a good excuse for the bridges and highways to be closed so that the character, and us as the readers, could experience one part of the city at a time (like the way, most of the good stuff starts off locked during the games). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this. This is just one chapter. As always, a constructive critique is always welcomed.

This is a WDCN News update:Delta City is still reeling from Hurricane Colleen which struck the Louisiana coast two days ago. While the heart of the city was untouched, the Longfellow Gardens area has seen massive flooding due to a leavy breech. Many homes are under water, and many are feared dead. The president has declared SouthEast Louisiana a federal disaster area, and is flying to the state to meet with Governor Townsend tomorrow. Meanwhile, as a precaution, bridges in and out of the city are currently closed, and flights in and out of Delta City International Airport remain cancelled. More news as it occurs on WDCN.

Martin Zacharius sat looking at Father Duffy. The Catholic priest was the man who had baptized Martin as a baby. He was a good friend of the family. The man's hair and eyebrows had been white as long as Martin could remember, and his red bulbous nose indicated that the priest liked his booze. Father Duffy, still had a trace of an Irish accent, despite the fact that he had immigrated to the US in the early 1950's.

"My dear boy," Duffy said. "I knew your parents ever since they were youngsters. It's so sad to see them taken away so violently. Are you sure they died in the flooding?"

"Yes, Father," Martin said. "The rescue workers found their bodies as soon as they went into the neighborhood after the storm. They...They just couldn't get to higher ground I guess." Martin hung his head/ "I should have been there with them..."

"Now don't speak like that, boy!" The elderly clergyman stood and walked around his desk to Martin. He put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "God kept you here because he had a plan for you. What about school? You're a going to be a sophomore at the university downtown, right?"

"Not without any money to pay for tuition!" My parents paid for everything. I don't think mom or dad had any life insurance, and they were just barely making ends meet to pay for my tuition. They said that a college student shouldn't have a job while he was trying to work on his education. The school was letting me stay in my dorm because my tuition would be arriving any day. Now..."

"Do you have anywhere to go at all?"

"No, Father. That's why I came to you. I don't have any other family. I don't know what to do."

"Well, of course, you're always welcome here. The church is always ready to help out someone in need. We already have an evacuation shelter open.We'll find some space for you."

"Thank you father. I'll do what I can to repay you."

"Now, there's no need for that. This is charity, son."

"No, I've got to do something to repay the church!" I couldn't just stay here free of charge."

Father Duffy walked back behind his desk and sat down. "Well, if that's the way you feel, we'll find some odd jobs for you to do here in the rectory."

Father Duffy took Martin into the church, and inside a back room that was serving as an evacuation shelter for a few families who had nowhere else to go when the storm had hit. Martin had nothing more than the cot that was assigned to him, and the clothes on his back to his name. He knew that it could be worse. He could be dead like his parents, and all the other people who couldn't leave or who had stubbornly refused to leave Longfellow Gardens before the storm.

"Now, son" Father Duffy said, "you just get some rest tonight. If you're up to it tomorrow morning, come talk to me. We can find some work for you to do."

Martin lay down on the cot. He hadn't even bothered to take off his clothes. There were still several other people sleeping on other cots throughout the shelter. Many of the people who had come here had already gone home. Martin no longer had a home. He was homeless, penniless, and alone. At the age of 20, everything and everyone he had ever loved and relied on was gone. With such serious things weighing on his mind, Martin shouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Yet the exhaustion of everything he had gone through in the last couple of days was enough to make him fall asleep soon after laying down.

When Martin woke up, sunlight was streaming into the room through the stained glass windows. He got up from his cot, and left the church. He walked across the grassy lawn to the rectory. Father duffy was at his desk working on his sermon for later that day. It was only 8:00AM, and the Irish priest was already drinking a glass of bourbon. Martin knocked on the open door, and Duffy looked up.

"Oh, Marty, come in! Did ya sleep ok, boy?"

"Well, I did, actually."

"It's not a surprise. You've been through a lot. Your poor body's probably reached it's limit."

"You said you might have some work for me."

"Oh, sure, sure. Tell me, you were a quarterback for that high school you went to, right?"

"Full back actually, Father."

"Oh, right, right..." The man's voice trailed off.

"Listen. There's these two hoodlums that hang out in front of the church from time to time. They're awful men. I've tried talking to them, and they call me the filthiest names. The police don't care about a couple of loiterers, so they're no help. Now that the city's getting back to normal after the storm, they're back outside.

"You're a big strong kid. Maybe you could intimidate them for me?"

Martin was a strapping man of 6'2, and spent a couple of days a week working out. He was normally a mild mannered guy, but anyone who didn't know him, could be intimidated by him. He thought for a second. "Well, I can try, Father."

"Good. If you can't persuade them to leave with words..." The priest got up and walked across the room. From behind a couch near the door, he pulled out a wooden baseball bat. "...use this"

Martin was stunned. "Excuse me, Father?"

"Don't worry. You'll be doing the Lord's work. I don't normally condone violence, but there are certain exceptions that must be made every now and then. Go get 'em, kid. They're outside right now."

Martin took the bat, and went outside. He walked from the rectory around to the front of the church. Two men that looked to be a couple of years younger than Martin sat on the steps of the church. They were talking loudly, and Martin could see that one was drinking from a bottle concealed by a paper bag. One of them looked up as Martin approached.

"Hey," the guy yelled, "what are you doing?"

"Guys," Martin said as he approached, "Father Duffy wants you guys off church property."

"Or what?" the second guy asked. "You gonna challenge us to a baseball game?"

"Hey, Scotty," the first guy said. "How about we play baseball with this guy's friggin head?" The two hoodlums stood up and walked to meet Martin.

Martin cocked the bat, and swung at the one named Scotty. It connected with the guy's right shoulder, and he fell down clutching the shoulder and howling.

The other hoodlum lunged for Martin, trying to grab the bat, but Marty's old high school football reflexes kicked in. He sidestepped the guy, and swung the bat at the guy's legs. It caught him in the back of his knees, and he fell to the ground next to his friend.

Marty looked down at them both. He couldn't believe he had actually done what he just did. He couldn't believe Father Duffy had told him to do so. "Don't come near the church again. Unless you want more of what you got today. Now get out of here."

Martin stood on the steps of the church, and watched the two hoodlums gather their wits about them, and go away.

"We'll be back for you, fuck head!" one of them yelled. "Us and our buddies are going to make you pay!"

Martin was shaking slightly. He had never gotten into a fight in school. He wasn't used to what he had just done. He had to admit, though, it had been kind of thrilling.

Father Duffy had watched the entire altercation from the window in his office. He smiled slightly to himself as the two wanna-be thugs left church property. Within seconds, Marty was back inside his office.

"They swore, they'd be back, Father."

"Well, we'll worry about that when we get to it, son. Sit down. You're only 20, right?"

"Yes, Father."

Duffy smiled, and opened a drawer on his side of the desk. "Well, you might not be of legal age yet. But after giving those two the beatin that ya gave 'em, I think you could use a belt." He pulled a bottle of bourbon and two shot glasses from the drawer and set them down in front of Marty. He poured the dark liquid into the glasses.

Marty picked up his and sipped it. Father Duffy downed his in one quick gulp. He then reached into his desk again and pulled out a fat envelope. From it, he pulled two $100.00 bills and passed them over to Marty.

"This is for that good work, ya did out there, Martin."

"Father...I can't...this money is for the church, isn't it?"

"It's for the church to use to help the less fortunate. Save that money, and use it later to help yourself get back on your feet. In the meantime, I always have a couple of odd jobs for ya to do. Come see me. Do a good job, and I'll help you out more with some of this money."

Marty thanked the man and walked out of the rectory, back to the shelter.