Taking Liberty

Summary : The gangs of Liberty City are once again engaged in a struggle for dominance of the city,and the Leone's are caught up in what may ultimately become a civil war, with the wolves at the door, allegiances are called into question,and Liberty is thrust into a state of war

A / N : This fic is meant to be somewhat realistic, well, actually accurate, in the way crime is commited, no made man will be killed without reprecrussions , the Yakuza will pay penance as they traditionally do ((I won't spoil it for you)) and as far as realism goes, 9mm's won't be flinging people five feet through the air, they make knock down someone who's not ready for the shot, but they won't go flying like in movies

The Kingston's Smith & Wesson 4500 handguns are really 4506's, don't ask, I won't tell, also, their bandana's, they don't wear them so it covers the top of their head, they wear them like headbands, only wider, so it covers their whole forehead, for anyone who's wondering

I woulda' had this up sooner but some things stopped me from doing so, nothing important though, so be sure to review 'cause reviews rock

One last thing, thanks to Gadget52 for helping me to pick the title, I just couldn't come up with one for this fic so you all can thank him for helping me 'cause other wise it probably woulda' taken me until the end of the month to descide on a title / come up with a title

Prologue : In The Beginning….
Atticus eye slowly, and sleepily opened at the annoying buzzing sound resounding throughout his skull. Flinging his legs over the edge of his bed, tossing the heavy cover off of himself, the twenty-two year old ex-Marine, wearily walked across the small, quaint but nicely furnished bed room and quickly shut off the small electronic device whose annoying tune he awoke to every morning.

"God damn," Atticus scratched at his head, further ruining his short blonde hair, which was unkempt and easily so as it was longer than usual, though that wasn't very short,

"These things need automatic hang-over devices or something that add five minutes to the set time." Atticus grumbled, stumbling slightly as he walked over to his closet due to his feet becoming entangle in a pair of pants he had left lying on the floor.

"Stupid shirt." Atticus murmured to himself before reaching into his closet and begun digging through the various articles of clothing he had in there. Atticus finally finished rifling through his clothing upon finding his usual military OD jacket, his he tossed onto his nearby chair just as a knock came from the front door.

"Hold on!" Atticus shouted as he quickly slipped into a pair of blue cargo jeans, and left his grey Nike muscle shirt on, briskly walking through his house, and to the large, thick wooden door, his head still throbbing, and his hair still unkempt, which received a few quick pats and brushes before Atticus turned the golden door knob, and pulled open the door.
"Hello sir,"
"Piss off." Atticus said rudely, beginning to close the door, "I don't give a rat's ass about Jehovah's witness, go jam your belief's down someone else's throat, unlike all the ignorant bastard's out there, I don't listen so well to stupid idealogy, I'm firmly convicted to my belief's, and my arrest record." Atticus added the last bit as an after thought.

With that Atticus shut the door, as the man kept talking, trying to entice the annoyed ex-Marine into coming back and listening to his loads of bullshit, which he had been taught how to dispense restlessly at every door that was opened. Atticus returned to his room slightly regretting not having checked who it was before opening the door as he changed into a plain white t-shirt.

Shoulda' played along with 'im, mess with 'is mind a little bit. Atticus thought, grabbing a shiney, stainless steel finish looking Zippo with the Eagle Globe N' Anchor on it, shoving the lighter into his pocket, he spun on his heel, and walked back into the messy bed room once again, took off his jacket, and slipped on his shoulder holster, which at the moment was empty.

How could I forget you, Smith & Wesson, you've been so good ta' me over the years. Atticus thought out of boredom, as he retrieved the semi-automatic handgun, and three magazines, two in the small magazine pouch attached to his shoulder holster, and one in his weapon, which Atticus could've easily worn exposed, as he could easily pass himself as a servicemen, though he no longer was, but he carried it concealed for the time being, for no real reason, other than to fool anyone stupid enough to assume, or think that he had no firearms on his persons. Besides in Liberty City, a place full of guns, drugs, money, cars, and sex no one really cared or asked questions upon seeing a weapon, nor did they much care if a shot was fired as long as it didn't endanger them.

".45 ACP, not many other pistol rounds capable of dropping a man in one shot." Atticus said to himself, as he pulled the stainless steel finished weapon's slide back, chambering a round, and let it slam back into place.

"Ah, music to my ears." Atticus said, upon hearing the metallic 'clak' , for lack of a better word, holstering the weapon which was set to safety, of course, as often as Atticus carried it with the safety off for whatever reason, he always had followed the rules of gun safety, if not constantly, but more than most people, or at least in this city.

Atticus stuffed his wallet and black acryllic handled stiletto switchblade into his pant pockets, and headed through the house to the attached garage's door, grabbing his keys on the way past the kitchen counter. Atticus opened the garage door and hopped over the door of his '01 blue Banshee landing softly in the plush, comfortable seat of the convertable speed-demon.

Atticus pulled out of the driveway, and was switched the radio station to Chatterbox, and coasted down the dirt covered road, past a group of teens apparently tagging a building with some kind of writing, prompting Atticus to chuckle slightly.

"They added a tag to this shit hole, take THAT society." Atticus mused, as he turned going right through a red light, heading straight into Hepburn Heights heading pas the huge run-down apartment sturctures that were pretty literally crawling with gang members and infested with hordes of druggies and other degenerates.

Atticus stopped at a red light on the other side of the large apartment's, having cut through the 'yard' seperating them, past the ringing pay phone and stopped at a red light right by the turn in front of the Red Light District Pay N' Spray, and cracked open a small bottle of Red Label Scotch Whiskey that was sitting on the passenger seat, and began drinking as the light turned green.

"Twelve thirteen, God, " Atticus murmered, thinking out loud as he looked at the digital display clock, "I've got two hours before I gotta' get to Joey's."

Atticus took the dipping road passing into the shadows of the small overhead briefly as he continued onto the large two way strip, which ran down not only the Red Light District but Chinatown too, past the seedy bars, brothel's and local Triad hangouts filled with drugs, blood money and corruption out past the Callahan Slip, which was no more than a dirt road and a small dock near and under the Callahan bridge, and wrapped around the city to go past Atlantic Quays and up north again.

The blue Banshee sped onward, gaining speed weeving in and out of a couple of cars, one switching lanes nearly clipping his back. The Banshee swung around the bend and slowed down immediately as Atticus braked and pulled into the small concrete parking lot.

The barren wasteland was filled with cigarette butts and shards of a couple of broken bottles of cheap beer. The parking lot was inhabited by only a two biker's, who were standing over their priced choppers near a semi on the north end of the lot, while a Kuruma occupied one of the central parking spaces, and a rusted old beat up Manana, which was parked a couple spaces down, and in the row in front of the Kuruma.

Atticus turned off the high performance sports car, and stuck the keys in his pocket, retrieving his cell phone at the same time and flipped it open, quickly dialing a number he put it on speaker phone and sat back as it rang, turning off the radio upon hearing realizing that this whole time he had been day dreaming while listening to Congressman Shrub ranting about violent video games, a shallow pathetic attempt to gain favor for the next election no doubt, hell the guy would even use his FAMILY if it furthered his position.

Corrupt bastard. Atticus thought, Video games, they blame it on frickin' games, it couldn't POSSIBLEY be being beaten, picked on, thrown out of their home or living in a city like this, NOOOOO, of course not, it's the fucking games

Atticus had shut off the radio, already annoyed at the thought of listening to Shrub any longer. Lately all week all Chatterbox had been was a place for pinko's, gun control activists, hippies and vegetarians to pump propaganda through. And Atticus wasn't fond of any of them, especially the commies.

"Hello ? "

"Carter, you busy ? " Atticus asked, flicking his cigarette butt out the window.

"Not really, why ? " Carter asked, yawning quietly.

"You just get up ? "

"Not too long ago, " Carter yawned again, and Atticus could hear him opening the garage door.

"You wanna' great breakfast at Joe's ? " Atticus asked his younger brother,having nothing better to do than have breakfast with him.

"Nah, I just got done shaving an' I'm gonna' get my hair cut." Carter answered,

"Alright, I'll see you at Leone's later."

"Alright, later."

Atticus hung up and replaced the cell phone in his pocket, and swung open the car door, stepping out into the mildly chilly New York air. Atticus glanced over at the gruff looking biker's, who seemed passive enough so he just strode across the parking lot pushing open one of the glass double doors in front of him and entered the diner.

Immdediately upon entering Atticus found a seat at a booth next to a window, noticing two men similarly dressed in semi-casual clothing sitting a couple booth's down from him, he didn't catch much but right away he heard them speaking in Russian. They either did so out of comfort, or wanting to keep something secret.

I should brush up on my Russian Atticus though lazily, as he shrugged off his Olive Drab jacket and set it next to himself just as a waitress approached his booth.

"And what would you like today ? " She asked, it had just struck Atticus that server's always started off with 'and', like you had been talking to the prick all day or something, besides, it was morning, not day.

"Uh, " Atticus started, having not really paid attention, some how finding himself unable to say anything at the begining of his sentence, but quickly ordered and leaned back against the somewhat hard but still comfortable seat, sighing lightly.

Might as well enjoy myself, damn tired though

As he waited for his meal to arrive, Atticus thought about various things, mainly what he would do once the meeting was over, the first thing that popped into his head was see if Claude needed help with anything as he was always a good contact when Atticus needed some quick easy and usually decent amounts of money.

Sounds like a plan, see what happens at Leone's, and then get a hold of Claude wherever the hell he is right now

The waitress returned with Atticus' meal, and he began eating, every now and then catching parts of the two Russians' conversation, but nothing too important, or anything to alarm him. This would be a hell of a day, Joey Leone actually wanted to cooperate with him and Carter for some reason, something was going down. Something big

Carter had left his house in his blue '03 Cheetah, heading down through Hepburn Heights, which is where his house he was currently staying at was located, passing through the predominately Hispanic section of Portland with ease.

Carter had always been on good terms with the Diablos, they provided him with some good contacts, information, and jobs, while Carter did the same for them, as long as it wouldn't interfere with anything else in his life. However, he never really trusted the gang fully like he did the Vercetti's or other people from Vice, but they were a reliable Portland contact.

The Cheetah pulled up along the sidewalk, coming to a slow stop, right in front of a small, somewhat beat up building. The building was made of ugly odd red colored bricks, many of which were chipped, and pock-marked from various gang wars, which is best explained by the fact that it was on the border of Chinatown and Hepburn Heights.

The car door opened up, and Carter emerged, garbed in a light jacket that was gray, a plain white t-shirt underneath it with plain blue carpenter jeans and classic black and white Chuck Taylor's, and the same as Atticus, he had no bandana adorning his head this particular day, his head full of slightly longer than usual blonde hair completely exposed. Carter strode towards the door, a couple of Hispanic teens on the other side of the street eyeing him as they sat around, trying to look like gangsters.

Stupid punks lucky I don't kick their asses Carter thought as he entered the barber shop, a speckled white tile floor, and a green painted wall which was begining to chip away in two of the corners, but other than that, it could of actually passed safety laws. It didn't exactly look clean, but it was one of the best places for a cut in Portland.

"Hey, Carter." A Hispanic looking woman called out from behind the counter.

"What's up, Andrea ? " Carter asked, as he walked around back behind the counter.

"Not much, sun goes up, sun comes down, same shit different day." Andrea replied, motioning towards a seat, "The usual ?"

"Yeah." Carter answered, sitting down in the suprisingly soft chair, "God damn, these things are better than office chairs." He smirked a tiny bit, as Andrea began cutting his hair.

"I heard you're heading to Joey's place today, what's up with that ?" Andrea asked, buzzing off Carter's already short side burns.

"He wants to talk with me an' Addie about some stuff, I have no clue what though," Carter replied, "I guess word gets around pretty fast."

"When you're starting to work for the biggest family in Liberty, people tend to find out." Andrea replied, trimming Carter's hair back to it's normal, somewhat short but not extremely so length, and he got up and fished out his wallet, handing her a twenty.

"Who said I was gonna' work for him ?" Carter asked, just realizing Andrea was the only one in the shop today, "And what happened to the others ?"

"They're all on lunch break, left me to take care of the place, lazy bastards," Andrea grumbled as she handed Carter his changed, "They say you're gonna' work for Joey."

"Oh well, they like to talk now don't they ?" Carter asked, smirking having quite some fun with the conversation.

"Yes, they do."

"Who exactly is they ?"

"Liberty."

"So, the pope, the mechanics down the street at Pay N' Spray, your brother, Johnny Garavino's parents who happen to be brother and sister, and also cousins somewhere along the line in the family tree, all know and talk about me ? "

"Yeah, something like that."

"You guys are worse than a group of bored house wives when they get together, you know that ? " Carter asked, amused at all of this in a way, but knowing that if the word was out there about him and Leone and they thought they were working together already, he would be having problems talking and workng with other gangs, and he also loved getting the chance to make a joke at Johnny Garavino's expense and with good reason and without it being randomly inserted into a conversation, or him having to steer the conversation into that direction in order to do so.

"I know, you really hate Garavino, huh ?" Andrea asked as Carter headed for the door.

"Nah, the guys just annoying, and stupid." This illicited a small laugh from Andrea and Carter stepped back out into the sharp, chilly Liberty air.

"And today's forecast calls for blood, brains, skull fragments, bullets and a few metric tons of chemicals and acids in the rain and drinking water, have a nice day ladies and gentleman, and remember, don't build a bunker, donate now you will be saved." Carter repeated a Pastor Richard's quote that had been played on the radio for a week now ever since Pastor Richard's visited Liberty on his national campaign to recruit idiots to pretty much throw money at him, for no particular reason he just had the urge to twist the quote around to make fun of the city, it suprised him that Pastor Richards still even talked about nuclear bunkers.

What a crazy bastard Carter thought.

Of course Pastor Richard's had first visited Las Venturas in a sad attempt to become successful there, but only Avery Carrington and Candy SuXXX had made it out of the 80's and into Las Venturas, that guy from Exploder had managed to get picked up for assault with a deadly weapon, so it was just those two, who were still there up until Avery's death at Toni's hands, a thing Carter never forgave him for, leaving only Candy SuXXX, who later came to Liberty and made a success out of it.

But her cocaine use from the eighties had worsened and in recent years she had been using drugs more often and Carter didn't really see her that much anymore, she hadn't pretty much turned into a female Axl Rose in that she was becoming reclusive, only she actually made public appearances more often. And she starred in porno movies.

Minor details Carter chuckled,

"Life's a bitch." Carter sighed and hopped into his car, it was no use thinking about what had happened, he had lived a somewhat troubled life and always would but he could make the best of what he had, his brother, his friends, his partners, and the good times to look back on, and some nostalgia.

Carter turned the keys in the ignition, and put a CD into the player, and Guns N' Roses Welcome To The Jungle started playing.

"Got nothing but time on my hands, time for a spin around town." Carter murmered to himself, as he hit the accelerator and pulled away fromt the curb, heading into Chinatown, riding past the basketball courts where a bunch of Triad soldiers where hanging around, trying to act tough and such.

Carter had never liked the Triads, any group or Tong, and he had always made sure never to be alone with more than one one as they had a tendency to use bladed weapons in their murders and executions, and he didn't feel like being put into a meat factory anytime soon. Carter pulled out onto the 'main strip' that ran from Atlantic Quay, through Chinatown, Red Light District, and Hepburn heights, and turned again onto the actual main strip which past ran by the Callahan Bridge, and into Atlantic Quays.

He swerved in between two cars and entered Atlantic Quays and cut across a grass median and kept driving, going past Joey's Auto Shop, and down past the wharehouse that some of the Forelli's used to use before thay had met their untimely demise at the hands of a Mr.Whoopee truck.

Carter could see couple of people breaking into a car and speeding off as the owne ran out of a wharehouse where the raves usually took place, hollering several obsceneties along the lines of "Fucking meth heads" as Carter passed by, he walked back towards the large, dust and grime, graffitti covered building and went back to whatever he was doing in there probably shooting up heroin or dropping acid while setting up a rave, or the like.

"Might as well go Ammu-Nation, bored as hell." Carter thought out loud, turning off his stereo as he entered Hepburn Heights again and came to a sudden stop in front of the gun shop, which was on a three-way border.

Behind it was the Cosa Nostra dominated St.Mark's district, full of some of the toughest wannabe wise guys, and surplus guns and drugs you could find in all of Portland, it was a mess these days, practically everyone important to the Sindacco's had been tore to shit and pasted all over the city during a series of SPANK deals gone wrong, the Forelli's had just degenerated into thugs, peddling drugs on the street corners to raise money and pimping random STD infested skanks, the Leone's weren't much better, but they were on top of the Mob, and they couldn't complain. It was also home to the extremely corrupt, and all together unreliable police department, which was full of bribes, drugs, and easily aquirable confiscated weapons, for a price.

To the north, Harwood, neutral turf just like with Atlantic Quay, generally prostitutes hung around both areas, and drug dealers, but the Mafia had always mucked around Harwood beating protection money out of the shady low down filth around the area and did their best to keep it moderately clean of too much bad for buisness filth. The Diablos were also known to take their street races through there, and even conduct a little buisness in Harwood, sometimes gettting into battles with the mob, Harwood was also home to the notorious and best auto shop in the city, 8Ball's AutoShop, he had one in Staunton and Shoreside too, but this was the first and original, stolen car parts, explosive ordanance, it was all there.

Carter had exited his car, and strode towards the shop, which was a little ways down the road, he had parked further out of boredom. And last but not least, tot he west of the gun shop, Hepburn Heights, which was better than before, it wasn't as much of a slum but still predominately lower class Hispanics, but ever since the Diablos had risen up in their power and began taking over Harwood, things were more stable, same with the Triads, they had finally shoved the Mafia out of their turf, and were looking for new territory.

Carter had approached the Ammu-Nation's entrance and pushed open the light glass door, and walked up to the counter.

"What can I do for you today, Carter ? " The employee asked, lighting a Malboro Red cigarette, and leaned against the counter.

"Ah, I just came by to look at some stuff, and burn time." Carter replied, looking over a shotgun on one of the racks, it was a Remington 11-87, a reliable and powerful semi-automatic shotgun, the police often used them in various areas of the US. In Carter's opinion it was a wonderful weapon, but then again, he always appreciated a good shotgun.

"Buy any rifle get a free pack of high-velocity ammo." The clerk said, taking a long drag from his cigarette causing it to glow a deep bright red color as he exhaled a giant cloud of white smoke.

"You guys're doing that again, Dan ? " Carter asked as he inspected a Mossberg 500, they were nice, but he liked Remington's more, but he knew the Mossberg shotgun had a reputation for being effective and reliable, he also had some first had experience with firing them.

"Yeah, apparently we don't have enough rednecks running around with military grade firepower, just look at Cassidy."

"I'll be sure to stop by his newly re-opened store and tell him that."

"He re-opened Fully Cocked ?"

"Yeah, he's still got the place in Rockford too, he's also thinking about a bar, and designing weapons, even maybe starting up a weapons manuefacturing company."

"No shit," The clerk said, somewhat suprised, "After they'd revoked his FFL for selling illegally obtained, or just illegal to own guns from the ban I thought they's never let him legally sell again."

"No shit, he's saving up a shit load of money for it, he's already got some designs, too, I never thought they'd let him either, but then again no one protested to him selling out of his Rockford place so I suppose anything's possible, and the ban's lifted so I suppose he won't have any problems anymore." Carter said, as he looked over an IMI Desert Eagle inside a display case which was chrome plated and had a long barrel, Carter coudln't remember the lengths it came in but he was sure this one was seven or eight and the overly large, heavy and unreliable pistol was chambered for .50 AE giving it seven rounds in a magazine.

"Useless thing isn't it ?" Carter asked, lookng at the Desert Eagle in the display case, he might not have liked certain aspects of it, but being fired at with such a large weapon was scary as hell and he was a gun enthusiast and as such he appreciated any weapon for the qualities it did posess, besides, having one pointed at you was a good incentive to stay the fuck away from the guy holding it.

"Man, I only work here for the money, I don't give a crap about the guns." Dan replied having sat down and was reading the latest issue of OPM.

"Good magazine." Carter said, walking towards the door.

"I know, that's why I read it."

"Quit being a smartass."

Carter made the short walk back down the street back to his Cheetah, and hopped in and headed back home.

I'll chill for a while, and then head for Leone's, that sonuva bitch is probably planning something stupid, but it's his head not mine

Carter headed back towards his house, which was to the west of the looming towers that were the Hepburn Heights apartments that Misty lived in. In a few quick moments, he arrived outside the modest one floor home, it wasn't anything fancy but he had more expensive places in Staunton Island and Shoreside Vale.

The young EX-Marine entered the humble abode, and shut the door behind himself, locking it. He wasn't afraid, but he didn't feel like being harrassed by the cops after killing in self-defense, and he would make sure the fucker was dead, and probably dump him in the river, still the cops would come after hearing the gunfire and such.

Carter entered the kitchen and took off his shoulder holster and extracted his Smith & Wesson 4500, the exact same weapon that Atticus carried and set it down on the table before tossing his jacket on a chair he moved over to the fridge and began searching through it. Finding a half-empty bottle of orange Crush, he sat down at the kitchen table and grabbed his phone.

A few numbers punched in later, the phone was dialing and the other line began ringing.

"Hello ? "

"Hey, Addie,"

"What's up ? "

"Just wondering if you were home yet or not and makin' sure you remembered what time we had to be at Leone's."

"That dumb schmuck wouldn't notice if we were late, he'd forget his own schedule, but yeah I remember, thanks."

"Later."

"Later, Carter."

Carter shut his phone, and threw away the now drained bottle of orange Crush and headed into his room, jacket and holster in hand with his phone in his pocket. He entered the small room, which was unusually neat compared to what it normally was without a single thing out of place amazingly, he set his phone down on his dresser along with his switchblade, which was identical to the one Atticus owned and carried, turning on his PS2, the disk of Hitman : Blood Money already inside.

Johnny's eyes fluttered open as the distinguishable smell, what most non-drinker's describe as a paint stripper or nail polish remover-esque smell, assaulted his nostrils. Slowly the realization hit him like a freight train. He was late.

Shit

Johnny shot up in bed, sitting up he looked around. An empty bottle and half empty one of Jack Daniels sat on the table in the other room, which he barely saw through the door.

"Shit..." Johnny trailed off, running a hand through his hair before he hopped out of bed, stumbling a little, and walked over to the closet. He had planned on hitting a club last night, which he did, and had a few drinks but when he came back home he got bored and invited a couple of friends over. Which was how he managed to empty a bottle and a half, they had left last night plastered as all hell, although Johnny only vaguelly remembered it happening.

Johnny threw away the empty bottle, thankful that he only had a small headache instead of a full blown hangover, and put the other large, square, black and white labeled bottle in the fridge.

Johnny glanced at the clock as he walked by heading towards his room to toss on some new clothes, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Shit, I still got some time left."

Johnny walked into his room, left the bed a mess, and tossed on a clean black shirt and changed his pant quickly before stuff his wallet and keys into his pocket he went into the kitchen, tossed together a sandwhich, and began to eat. He had at least half an hour left, and would be out the door in ten or twelve minutes.

"I gotta' stop stressing out like that for no reason." Johnny muttered, his mouth full of lunch meat, lately he had been over reacting, that would probably pass though, it was just a random thing.

Timothy exited his Portland View apartment, and entered his blue Washington. He'd left his wife and daughter back in Vice while he operated in Liberty out of safety, and it would just be easier. He didn't even like the idea but he had to do it, the chance to take out some of the biggest criminals on the East Coast would arise soon enough.

He had at least gotten a decent place to stay while helping the not-so-dependable Liberty City Police Department.

I swear to God the Chief wants me to get shot out here

Timothy had recently been given cross-jurisdiction and his job for the next month or so was to help clean up Liberty. Apparently a massive gang war of some sort was thought to be brewing, although from what he had heard, the Mafia and Diablos were on good terms and getting better, the Triads still too weak to strike, but the Yardies were becoming massive and powerful in Staunton, and the Yakuza weren't backing down, with the Columbians gone the ony turf not taken over was the contested construction site of Fort Staunton, and the neutral territory of Bellville Park. And in Shoreside things were perfectly calm, the Jacks and Nines had become peaceful, and some had even reunited into the Southside Hoods, though the two other gangs still existed, and the Columbians were reeling from the crippling blow from Claude Speed a few years back.

He was heading out to take a quick spin around Portland, and get more familiar with the area but he was going out mostly to enjoy his time off while he could, he had been here for a couple of days and the shit would be hitting the fan soon.

Timothy pulled his '03 Kuruma out of the parking lot and headed east, up the large sloping road that curved and ran past Joey Leone's place, Timothy noted the EL Train station to his right where a couple of people were boarding and disembarking.

That won't be safe at night, but it'll be fast and easy to move around town, or even have a meeting in if there's no one close by

The small, light well rounded four door car came to a slow stop in the parking lot of Marko's Bistro. The one thing Timothy had learned in all his time was that using the excuse of getting familiar with an area was a great reason to have fun, and visit some of the locales after all he already did know the area pretty well.

Can't do good work without good food A smile tugged at the end of Timothy's mouth as he shut his car door and put away his keys and began walking up the short flight of stairs to the patio area and up the second and entered the finally decorated restaraunt, he would've gone to Cipriani's as it was closer to his apartment but he had picked Marco's randomly, he couldn't make up his mind and just ended up coming here instead.

The first thing Timothy had noticed was the decor, the place practically screamed Mafia, everyone was probably waiting for someone to walk out of the bathroom with a revolver and cap some guys eating pasta. A 'made' man that Timothy instantly recognized was sitting at the small bar towards the back was Giovanni Forelli, he was next in line after Giorgio who had managed to make it out of the eighties alive.

Timothy was soon seated in one of the fancy, large plush seated boothes, his eyes glued to the menu. Above him and the booth hung a large framed picture of some Italian man, he was most likely a political figure but Timothy couldn't tell and he wasn't very knowledged in Italian history.

A few minutes later, Timothy had ordered and was waiting for his food to arrive, after his meal he would head probably take a spin around town, go sight seeing, something like that.

So the Sindacco's have made it back into Liberty in recent times, their the bottom of Portland, then the Triads who are still licking their wounds, the Forelli's have managed to accumulate a fair amount of funding, the Diablos are making peace with the families, namely the Leone's, who sit on top now as for Staunton it's been divided roughly in half, the Yakuza and the Yardies are battling it out, both of them making up two of the most powerful three gangs in Liberty, next to the Leone's, hell the Yakuza and Yardies were actually slightly MORE powerful, the Southside Hoods, Jacks, and Nines all have gained power, but the Hoods are on top of the trio, and the Liberty City Columbian Cartel without Miguel or Catalina, and then the Sicillians, I forgot the family name, might be moving in again... but it's all peaceful for now, don't know why they sent me up here, last time there was actually trouble but I suppose wherever the Kingston's go it's sure to follow

Timothy went through this massive inner monologue just in time for his meal, which was some type of pasta dish the name of which he couldn't remember, or even pronounce correctly, and a bottle of moderately cheap wine, only about $60 for it, but it was pretty damn good.

Well, I came out here to enjoy myself, not think about work Timothy raised the crimson red liquid filled glass to his lips, Here's to me

Jack weaved in between a grey-ish white Rumpo as he crossed the Callahan Bridge into Portland, he had left his Aspatria residence not too long ago and was timing it perfectly, he'd arrive a minute or two before he was supposed to, but he had bigger things to worry about. Like Joey Leone being as paranoid as his father, if that ever happened he would be dead before he even gave Joey a reason to whack 'em.

Paranoid motherfucker Jack thought as he arrived in Chinatown speeding right past the subway entrance, and got stuck in traffic, he could just cut through it, but he had nothing to do so he turned on the radio, and sat back and slowly moved along, apparently someone had gotten into a wreck, and shots were fired over it.

"Might as well waste a few minutes." Jack murmered, leaning back and waiting for the cars ahead of him to move, he had more important things to think about than getting through traffic.

Jack pulled over on the side of the road and leaned his seat back a little bit, and began drinking. In all technicality, he wasn't driving or at least not yet. And he was still early, and had no better way toburn time this particular day.

Richard had left earlier than needed, he would hang around the house with Joey and the others if he got there too early. Apparently Joey was planning on having him and a few other people work for him, either he was going to ignite a war within the Mafia against the other families, or he was having them work for him so if a war did break out he'd have a group of men ready to kill anyone in his way.

The white and black Phobos VT came to a slow stop as he reached the Leone abode, and he killed the engine parked next to a PCJ 600, and Mafia Sentinel, ever since the families were back on good terms they had begun using the same vehicles unless they wanted to be recognized.

"Hey ! Richard ! How ya been ?" Luigi asked from his spot up on the patio above the garage doors, drink in hand.

"Luigi, it's been a while."

"Too long, kid, too long."

" 'Ey, Richard." Mickey emerged from the lounge room garbed in his usual semi-expensive looking dark blue suit, Joey, Toni, Misty, and Maria were still inside.

"How's it going, Mickey ?" Richard shook his hand and Mickey clapped a large gorilla sized hand on Richard's shoulder as they walked into the house.

"Not bad, buisness has been good, peace on the streets."

"Yeah, but the Diablos have frickin' Harwood, no class spics took over OUR turf." Luigi grumbled from behind them, drinking some of whatever cocktail he had fixed himself.

"At least they let us operate there, we could be wasting time, money, and men on a war." Richard pointed out, as they sat down to chat.

"I heard Maria came back." Richard said, eager to find out exactly what was going on.

"Yeah, she apparently left Claude and came back to us like we was gonna' just forgive an' forget, the grovelling bitch, I don't trust her a fucking inch." Luigi said, finishing off his cocktail he set the glass down on the table.

"Well, like Mick said," Richard began, "Peace in the streets, money is good, we have a possible partner in the Diablos and the Traids aren't bothering Toni anymore, so now his blood pressure will drop."

"You supposed to be some sorta' wise guy, huh?"

The room erupted into laughter as the short stocky man walked in just as Richard made fun of him.

"Those chinks got what they had comin', and as for Claude, he'll get what he deserves in time."

"I say we just let the guy go, let the other gangs take his ass out and loose their men in the process." said Mickey, downing his glass of whiskey, the group turned towards the door as they heard a car pulling up.

Carter looked around at the Leone 'mansion'. It was as finely furnished and up kept as usual, maybe even more so. About a dozen Mafiosi or so patrolled the area, a few going inside on their routes, others going in occasionally for water and what not. Joey was obviously not as stupid as one may think, he was always a cautious and pretty good planner, being Don just made him wiser.

Carter stepped out of Atticus' Banshee and together they approached the steps, both were wearing black bandana's and military fatigues, and of course their dog tags, this being mostly a coincedence, Atticus exchanging a few words with a nearby Mafioso whom he identified as Jimmy Teru, apparently Jimmy owed Atticus a few bucks from a bet of some sort.

"Just remember, if you don't pay me I'll break your frickin' legs." Atticus smirked as the wise guy punched him in the shoulder.

"I'm ready for your ass, Mr.EX-Marine." Jimmy chuckled as the brother's walked up the stairs.

"Oh, Jimmy," Carter turned around after he reached the top of the stairs, where as Atticus went in and was greeted by all the others,

"Yeah, Carter ?"

"He'll not only break your legs, he'll remember for years, and he'll never leave you alone until you pay him back."

"What a Jew."

"He'd be a lawyer or a jeweler wouldn't he ?"

"I guess so."

Carter spun on his heel and approached the group inside, Mickey had gone in another room to chat with one of the goons about something or other, Luigi was busymaking a call back to the club from another room so everyone's talking wouldn't bother him, he was checking up on something but nothing important, otherwise he'd of been there taking care of things.

"So, what's up guys ?" Carter asked, looking at Toni, Atticus, Richard, and Joey who had joined the group not too long ago, he was dressed in semi-casual black pants and a black t-shirt.

"Carter, good to see you, it's been a while, I was just telling your brother here how you guys have to stop by the restaraunt more often." Toni answered, just as Luigi and Mickey rejoined the group.

"So what did you call us all over here for ?" Richard asked, interested not only in what would be happening in the near future, but also his role in the events. Of course massive amounts of cash and expensive rewards were also an incentive to part take in them.

"Where's Johnny ?" Jack asked, realizing that he hadn't arrived just yet.

"He's always nearly late, lazy prick." Toni spoke up, "But he does good work, he'll probably be here in a minute or two."

"Right, and I'm the King of England." Jack murmered, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey, you guys miss me ?"

"Oh great, someone couldn't have killed you on the way here ?" Jack said, turning to see Johnny standing in the doorway.

"Now that's no way to treat your superiors." Johnny shot back, a sly grin on his face as he sauntered in.

"Alright you egomaniacal bastards, we came here to talk buisness not see who has a dick longer than two inches." Toni ordered, Luigi and Mickey having rejoined the group and they were all gathered around, Jack and Johnny took a seat on one of the new couches.

"So why'd you call us over here for ? " Carter asked, looking at Joey, "If you need something done a calls all we need."

"I called all of you fine gentlemen here, because I have some important news," Joey said, standing and walking into the center of the group of the men, "I want all of you to work for me, now, that doesn't include or require joining the family so don't worry, but you will have the protection and respect of it."

"Plus you'll be earning good money, and anything you happen to pick up along the way is yours to keep." Toni added in, pointing out further incentives to join in on the lucrative scheme.

"The peace isn't going to last much longer," Joey continued, "It's been a while since an actual war has broken out, we need to get rid of bad blood, it's bad for buisness if we don't."

"And that's where we come in ?" Johnny asked, head resting on his hand, a quisitive look on his face.

"Exactly," Joey spun around, facing Johnny, "You guys work for me, you'll do the same jobs as usual, but I'll need you guys to put in some other work, I need some guys I can trust, and ones that can wipe out a whole gang by themselves, let alone together."

Atticus looked at Carter, the two practically communicating as if they were actually speaking. Atticus looked at Joey,

"Sounds like a good idea, but what exactly is going on ?" He asked, rather interested in making large sums of money for doing almost no hard work.

"The other families, the Triads, they're going to attack us." Luigi blurted out, "Those rat bastard Sindacco's an' Forelli's are plannin' some shit behind our backs."

"And just how do you know all this ?" Jack spoke up, Richard who sat next to him kept quiet, just paying attention to all that was said.

"We don't have any proof, and the Sindacco's may even sincerely be looking for peace but those blood thirsty Forelli's are out to get us." Joey answered.

"I don't trust those fuckers an inch, there out for blood, MY blood so I need all of you--"

"To act as pin cushions for the several metric tons of lead they'll be tossing your way." Carter interrupted Joey, laughing as he opened his flask and put it to his lips.

"Oh you think this is funny ? " Joey glared at him, an expression of anger scrawled across his face.

"As a matter of fact I do, I ain't takin' a bullet for no disilluisioned, paranoid wop." Carter answered, nodding his head while putting his flask in his pocket, "You are so very entertaining, Joey, you're a funny guy you know that ?"

"Funny ? Funny how ?" Joey asked, from where Richard sat it looked like his ears were shooting out steam, or he was about to put his fist in Carter's face, "Funny as as I'm here for your entertainment ?"

"No, you're just a good guy, you're nice to be around, you're funny."

"I'll show you fucking funny." Joey murmered, walking away from the group, trying to regain his thoughts.

"So where were we ?" Richard asked, looking over his shoulder and around his chair at Joey.

"We were just gonna' tell you's all how we need you guys to do some shit for us." Luigi said, "The Sicillians want to move back into Liberty, with them giving us cash until they know they won't take a loss with us, we'll set up a deal with the Sindacco's, the Diablos are already on our side, and then we take out the Triads and Forelli's, and we need you all to help with that."

"So basically we work for you as every other time you needed help and that we actually obliged, only on a more regular basis ?" Carter asked.

"Basically." Joey replied.

"Sounds frickin' great." Atticus said.

"So it's agreed ? Good. Like Luigi said, we're getting cash from the Sicillians, we're gonna' get the Sindacco's on our side, and then wipe out those chinks and Forelli's for good." Joey clasped his hands together, "Alright, now get going, I have some things to take care of here."

"Later, Joey, Toni, Luigi, Mickey." Richard said, walking out the door to his car, and headed for home. He didn't have anything to do today, and didn't really feel like hanging around the town.

"I'll see ya guys later then." Johnny did the same, and went to his car to go home, but he would probably end up going out to a club or something later on.

"So what're you guys gonna' do today ?" Jack asked, looking at Atticus and Carter as they proceded to their cars.

"I dunno, I was gonna' probably head out and hit the town, maybe shakedown a punk drug dealer or two." Atticus said, "You know how it is, keep 'em in line."

"I know how it is," Jack replied, now standing next to his car in the large, wide, relatively empty driveway in front of the house's garage.

"What about you, Carter ?"

"I was gonna' go home, toss Let Me Bounce into the DVD player, grab a bottle of Vodka of some sort and enjoy myself."

"Candy SuXXX, nice choice." Jack laughed.

"But of course." Carter replied.

"Well I gotta' go, later." Jack said, and sped off.

"So you really think Joey's gonna' make peace with the Sindacco's ?" Atticus asked as they entered the Banshee.

"Hell no, he'll have them whacked at the meeting." Carter replied as they took off, heading to Atticus' Staunton place to drop off his Banshee, pick up Carter's car, and the one Atticus had left, and they would be going home after that.

"You're probably right, but I suppose it's for the best if these crazy wops exterminate each other, it'll at least get rid of some of them, which means we'll be able to work without any hassle." Atticus pulled open the sports car's door and got in, slipping the proper key into the ignition he twisted until the engine started and let go.

"Yeah, well, when that shits starts up we'll have every gang in Liberty after our heads on a platter, we won't be able to conduct safe buisness outside of Leone turf for a while, hell, someone might even hire the Cerberus if they really want to take out Leone." Carter pointed out the risks as he hopped into the high end vehicle and shut the door behind himself.

"If they hire the Cerberus it'll be a bloodbath, those guys have the subtlety of a surgeon with tremors." Atticus replied as he took off for Staunton Island to get his other car, and Carter's.

The ride remained partially silent, only the occasional word to each other, which was descidedly odd since the two generally talked more. It would soon be a war in the streets. Everything, St.Mark's, Hepburn Heights, Chinatown, they would all be engulfed in flames because Joey Leone was a power hungry paranoid mobster like his father. People would kill, and many more would die, assasinations plotted, attacks carried out.

"You know, Leone and the Sicillians just might actually pull this shit off." Carter murmered, looking out the window, and then to Atticus.

"Whatever happens with the Sindacco's is gonna' dictate what happens next, if something goes wrong Portland's gonna' be a warzone, I can't really say what'll happen, the gangs will probably all turn on each or there might be truces made between all of them, I just don't know."

"Joey thinks it'll all go according to plan, he's still got a thing or two to learn." Carter murmered.

Atticus' Banshee came to a stop in his Bellville places' garage and he killed the engine, before stuffing the keys into his pocket.

"What happened to your gun ? You aren't wearing a jacket." Carter asked, looking at Atticus, who indeed was not wearing his jacket from earlier in the morning as it had warmed up, but he knew that Atticus prefered shoulder holsters just as he did.

"IWB, not the most comfortable, but it works and I sure as hell won't wear a belt holster those things give ou away from a mile unless you have a blazer and even though IWB's are even more uncomfortable in cars but I didn't feel like wearing my jacket."

"Same, but they're bad for drawing in cars just like hip holsters."

"But they're easily concealed." Atticus pointed out.

"I can't argue with that."

"You know, they say hip holsters are the best, but I guess we're just that good to be able to quick draw from a shoulder holster."

"No, they just suck."

"We should get some of those holster things Travis Bickle used in Taxi Driver, the one in his sleeve, whatever that was." Atticus said.

"I've always wanted to use one on someone, suprise the shit outta' them." Carter agreed.

The two EX-Marines got out of Atticus' Banshee and headed inside to hang out and relax for a while and as soon as they got inside Carter's phone rang.

"Hello ?"

"Carter it's----"