Kane & Lynch: Legacy

A fanfic by Bill Weiss

Chapter one

Louis Kane

Cairo, 8th June 2011. 9 am

(Ps: Sorry nothing happens in this chapter. I'm just introducing the characters.)

The stewardess handed me a glass of lemonade, and I thanked her, and let her go on her way.

I was on the airplane to Cairo with my father (Adam) to visit Adam's friend (James Seth, known to everyone by his last name, Lynch.) Who had recently adopted a kid (Jack.)

I closed my eyes, and waited until we touched down.

Some time later, we drove to a large house.

A middle-aged man was sitting on the porch smoking a pipe. He was wearing glasses, tracksuit bottoms, and a dirty, stained wife beater. "Urgh. Kane, what the hell do you want?" He grunted. This must be Lynch.

Dad shrugged. "Just wanted to meet your new kid. Where is he, by the way?"

Lynch rolled his eyes. "He's out back, if you really must see him. "

Dad nodded. "Listen, I know you must be pissed about Shanghai, but…"

Lynch stood up. "Damn right, I'm fucking pissed!"

Dad motioned for me to go find Jack. I did, eager to avoid watching the two fight.

As I explored the back of the garden, I noticed there was a large, almost labyrinthine shooting range. I

entered, and almost immediately heard the cocking noise.

I turned around to see myself staring down the double barrels of a shotgun. The one holding it appeared to be around my age. This must be Jack.

"Hello, you must be Jack." I said, remembering my manners, even as a shotgun was pointing in my face. "I'm Louis, Your father's friends son. Now, could you please put that thing down?" I pointed at the shotgun, and he lowered it.

"You… ? Yeah, I heard dad talkin' bout your dad, I did. Not very nice man, apparently, he isn't. Shot a Triad's daughter, he did. Dad never forgave him, he didn't."

I groaned, as I heard he had a very stereotypical cockney accent, the kind you would expect to hear in the Victorian times. "Could you please not talk about my dad like that? He's a nice guy. And besides, according to my dad, your dad's a psycho."

With that, he snarled, threw the shotgun aside, and jumped on top of me, punching and scratching.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk. About. My. Dad. Like. That." He snarled between punches.

"He may not be perfect, but who is?"

Suddenly, there were gunshots from the front. Screaming… Shouting….

To be continued…