Seven Years Later.
Sometime in 2013. Boilingbroke Penitentiary. Blaine County, San Andreas.
Inmate 493-0224, Marcus Thompson, was busy lifting weights in the prison yard, frowning as he lifted the heavy iron. His good friend Maxim Rashkovsky was nearby, a professor at something that Marcus was never told about. As the two friends were in the yard, Rashkovsky curiously looked at Marcus.
"Do you ever get tired of it in here?" Rashkovsky asked.
Marcus shrugged as he put the weights in it's holder, sitting up on his bench. "I don't... I've been in prison for a while and I can handle it." Marcus replied, shrugging.
Rashkovsky kept reading out of a science book as Marcus sat down next to him, both thinking on freedom from their prison. Little did Marcus know, however, is that Professor Rashkovsky had a plan... A plan that was going to be put in action that very day...
Marcus sighed, shaking his head. "I hated it in Alderney, but the shit here makes me wanna go back... The entire state was a fuckin' dump." he said, adding in the last sentence.
"I know, comrade." Rashkovsky said, nodding. "But what if I could tell you that I have a way out of here?" he asked.
Marcus scoffed, taking Rashkovsky's book and setting it down so he could get a better look at the expression on his face. "Maxim, only because I think it's funny, I'd love to hear your idea." Marcus replied, rolling his eyes.
Rashkovsky shrugged, leaning close to Marcus. "I need your word you will not tell another soul about this plan, comrade." Rashkovsky whispered.
"I promise, now what is it?" Marcus asked, getting a little annoyed at the secrecy.
Rashkovsky was about to tell Marcus before the speakers sounded, signaling all of the inmates to return inside of the main building for their food.
"Damn... I'll have to tell you about it later. Meet me out here later, okay?" Rashkovsky asked.
Marcus nodded, but stayed where he was as Rashkovsky stood up. "Okay, but I think I'll just stay out here. I'm not hungry." Marcus replied.
Rashkovsky shrugged, taking Marcus's answer as he walked with the other prisoners back towards the main building. Marcus simply started reading from Rashkovsky's book, just out of curiosity...
His friend was pretty strange, but he was also pretty smart...
Not far away from Boilingbroke Penitentiary, two criminals met near an old scrapyard, right in front of a stolen prison bus. The two criminals were dressed as a prison guard and an inmate, both preparing for their objective...
Break Maxim Rashkovsky out of prison.
The two criminals boarded the bus with the 'guard' in the driver's seat. Both of them were prepared to shoot their way out of Boilingbroke if they had to... or put a bullet in their own skulls to avoid capture.
As the 'prison guard' drove out onto the road leading towards Boilingbroke, they kept their mind focused on the job in front of them, the responsibility of getting the professor out of Boilingbroke...
But mostly, the 'prison guard' was thinking on how they were going to spend all of their money once this was over... Over one hundred grand was on the line for each of them, and this was no time for fuckups...
A few minutes after the two criminals left the scrapyard, and after eating his lunch, Rashkovsky returned to find that Marcus had read through the entire book. "Did you enjoy reading that?" Rashkovsky asked.
Marcus shrugged, closing the book and tossing it away, literally even more bored because of the topics inside of the paperback book. "No, not at all, but I have literally nothing else to read." he said, sighing.
Rashkovsky sat down next to Marcus and leaned his head on the cement wall behind him.
"I think you're still curious about the thing I wanted to tell you, am I right?" Rashkovsky asked.
Marcus sighed, rolling his eyes before he nodded and stood up, walking to the front of Rashkovsky and looking down at him. "All right, Maxim. I'd just love to hear about this 'plan' of yours. Shoot." Marcus said, sarcastically.
Rashkovsky smirked, looking up at his friend. "Okay... So, it involves some contacts of mine, along with some people they 'hired'. Look, one of them is going to fly a plane to the airfield a little ways from here, and the rest-" he began.
The professor was interrupted by an alarm sounding all around the prison, along with several gunshots ringing out from somewhere not far from their location. Some gunshots appeared to come from a standard-issue nine millimeter pistol used by guards and criminals alike, and the rest of the gunshots appeared to come from an assault rifle of some sort; possibly a G36C 'Special Carbine'.
The prison was under attack!
"What the fuck!?" Marcus asked, surprised at hearing the gunshots. "What the hell is going on?!" he asked.
Rashkovsky laughed a little, seeing Marcus's reaction. "Comrade, I tried telling you! I'm being busted out of this shithole! I'd like for you to come with me." Rashkovsky said, smiling.
Marcus sighed as he looked at his friend, and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Maxim, but I'll make my own way out. I'm sure whoever's attacking wouldn't know I'm coming with, right? I'm better off finding a different way out." Marcus said, smiling with confidence as he knew the people attacking were for Rashkovsky, and not him.
Rashkovsky nodded, returning a smile to Marcus. They both gave each other a quick hug before Marcus patted him on the back, breaking the hug.
"Goodbye my friend." Marcus said.
"Goodbye comrade." Rashkovsky replied.
Marcus nodded and quickly ran off as he heard the firefight was getting closer. He saw prisoners running from the scene and the prison guards fighting back whoever was attacking. Marcus kept a tight hold on a shank he had hidden in his sleeve...
He wasn't going to take any chances... TODAY was the day he was getting out of this shithole!
Marcus noticed a guard was shooting at the two attackers, and for some reason he noticed a Velum propeller aircraft in the air being attacked by fighter jets; the jets may have been dispatched from Fort Zancudo which was about a few miles away. In any event Marcus ran to the guard and stabbed him right in the neck with his shank, quickly stealing the guard's nine millimeter Beretta from him.
Marcus also noticed that a Buzzard attack helicopter was in the air and defending the Velum. He knew that plane had to be what Rashkovsky was going to escape in... He took a quick look back at Rashkovsky and went wide eyed as he saw two prisoners beating him to a bloody pulp.
"RASHKOVSKY!" Marcus shouted, shocked at what was happening to his friend.
But then he saw the 'inmate' run towards Rashkovsky, killing the two prisoners who were beating him up. Marcus could see the 'inmate' hand Rashkovsky a pistol before he stood up. A few words were spoken by Rashkovsky but Marcus was too far away to hear exactly what was being said by him.
The 'inmate' and Rashkovsky were met by the 'prison guard', and the three of them started fighting against the prison guards. Marcus noticed that the guards were joined by the National Office Of Security Enforcement; or 'NOOSE' to be specific. But Marcus quickly ran from the scene and into the main building, hoping to get out through the front door and get a car. Surprisingly, he found no guards waiting to stop him on account that they were all either dead or fighting the people bringing out Rashkovsky.
Marcus kicked open the front doors of the visitors center, going wide eyed with what he saw. The two criminals and Rashkovsky were in a Blaine County Police Department armored van, driving away from several BCPD helicopters and police cars that were chasing after them.
Marcus didn't waste any time. He saw a nearby police cruiser and he ran to it. There was a cop inside, but Marcus simply shot him in the head and opened the driver's door, pulling the body out and making sure to immediately drive as fast as the car could possibly could. Only two police cars went after him as the rest of the BCPD stayed on Rashkovsky and the criminals.
"Jesus Christ, Maxim!" Marcus exclaimed, seeing it all happen in his rear-view mirror.
The Buzzard then started blowing the police helicopters out of the sky as the Velum landed at Sandy Shores Airfield, needing to get the professor out of Blaine County as soon as possible. Marcus stopped for a moment on Panorama Drive, because he noticed the two police cars were blown up by the Buzzard...
He owed the pilot a drink if he ever met them...
Marcus saw the criminals park the armored truck next to the Velum, with the 'inmate' and 'prison guard' fighting off the remaining police officers as Rashkovsky got on the plane. The pilot of the Buzzard used rockets to blow up several police cars as the 'inmate' and 'prison guard' boarded the plane with Rashkovsky. Marcus had an impressed look as the Velum pilot started going down the runway and then took off; the Buzzard pilot following them...
"Damn..." Marcus muttered, wide eyed. "They could teach ME a thing or two..." he said to himself.
Marcus tried to keep driving but the police car stayed in place. Marcus rose an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was going on with his car. He looked through the back window and quickly got his answer. A gas trail was on the asphalt, leading all the way to him. He knew a fuel line must have been punctured somehow during the driving.
Marcus hit the steering wheel in frustration as he heard and saw police sirens in the distance... he had to get out of the area, he knew it. Marcus got out of the police car and kept a tight hold on his Beretta as he started running directly into the desert, hoping to lose the cops somewhere in there...
He knew it was near-suicidal, but what choice did he have...?
He was NOT going back to jail...
After several hours of running through the 110 degree desert, Marcus got close to Sandy Shores, a small town on the Alamo Sea. He was literally praying the police wouldn't notice him now that he was out of his orange jumpsuit...
He was literally running through the Great Senora Desert in his underwear and white t-shirt...
But because of a lack of water and strength, Marcus collapsed in the sand, literally within view of Sandy Shores. Marcus struggled to keep conscious and to keep crawling towards the town, but the lack of strength quickly made him stop.
Struggling not to pass out, he went wide eyed as a man appeared in his eyesight. The man had on a dirty and smelly beige t-shirt, and grey sweatpants covered in blood and other bodily fluids...
The smelly man smirked as he saw Marcus lying on the ground, going to him and snatching up his pistol from him.
"What have we here?" the man asked, casually sitting down on a rock and looking at Marcus. "Please don't feed the crows, I just gave them a body the other day!" the man said, not joking at all.
Marcus coughed, literally struggling not to puke at the smell of the strange and creepy man.
"W- Water..." Marcus whispered, weakly.
The man stood up and put Marcus's pistol in his waistband. The man went to a redish Canis Bodhi truck and pulled a bottle of whiskey out from the glove compartment, showing it out to Marcus.
"Stop whining! God, you sound like this guy I know, he whines about everything! His ex-wife, his disgust of me fucking a corpse, and even getting shot at every other day of the week!" the man said, casually sitting on the hood of his truck and taking a long drink of his whiskey.
The smelly man smirked, seeing Marcus was only in his underwear and shirt. "You run away from a BDSM whorehouse, or something, kid? You guzzling some cock in a dark alley? Heh... That takes me back..." the man said, appearing to be reminiscing something.
Marcus used all of his strength to crawl up to a separate rock, leaning on it and looking back at the man. "W- What the fuck is wrong with you...?" Marcus weakly asked.
"Oh, tons of things! My dad abandoned me at the mall when I was a little boy, my best friend's been dead for ten years, I never got to fly for the air force, and the Lost Leather Club is screwing up my shipments because I'm fucking Johnny K's girl! Well, she does it for a lot of crystal meth, but it's the fucking that counts, right?" the man asked before chugging his whiskey.
Marcus frowned, getting a little annoyed at the man as he saw him chugging his whiskey. The man sighed as he drank the entire bottle, still looking down at Marcus.
"And another thing... What the fuck are you doing out here in your underwear?" the man asked curiously as he held his now-empty bottle.
"C- Christ, man, just give me s- some fucking water!" Marcus growled.
The man frowned and walked over to Marcus, smashing the bottle on the top of his head and knocking him out. The man tossed away the remains of the bottle that was in his hand as he saw Marcus fall over onto the sand, unconscious.
The man glared down at Marcus, kicking his body only because he could. "LEARN SOME FUCKING MANNERS!" The man growled.
Another man ran from the truck, a man with a red jacket, glasses, and a grey rainhat. The man had a surprised look as he saw Marcus was laying unconscious on the sand, and his boss was kicking his unconscious body.
"Nice job, Trevor!" the man said, smirking. "The guy had it coming, didn't he? No one pisses you off and gets away with it!" he added.
The smelly man, now known as 'Trevor', turned and frowned at the other guy as he stopped kicking.
"You're gonna play 'ass-kisser' now, Ron?" Trevor scolded, frowning.
The other man, now known as 'Ron', went wide eyed as he saw Trevor glaring at him. "O- Of course not, T!" Ron replied, fearfully. "I- I was just saying this guy was the one who did something wrong! Obviously not you!" he said.
Trevor went and grabbed Marcus by his arms, hoisting him up onto his shoulders as he looked at Ron.
"I've got a good feeling this guy could be useful... Or a good sex slave. Maybe good for eating! NOW GET IN THE FUCKING TRUCK!" Trevor shouted.
Without another word, Ron ran to the passenger seat of Trevor's truck and quickly got inside. Trevor grunted as he threw Marcus into the bed of the truck, smirking at himself as he then got into the driver's seat. Neither he or Ron said another word as Trevor put 'Channel X' radio on, driving back towards his trailer...
Trevor Philips had plans for Marcus...
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