A/N Hey everyone, sorry for delay…life has been taking over recently. But there's no way that this is getting abandoned, it's just a struggle finding the time and energy to write it. Anyway, here it is…quite long and should keep you entertained for a couple of minutes. (Can't wait until the next GTA is out!)
Conlan was dreaming. His father was waving at him while standing atop a giant spanner. He was trying to say something...what was it?
'I can't hear you,' said Conlan desperately.
'Wake up,' he whispered.
'What?'
'Wake your fat ass up Conlan,' he appeared to say. Conlan felt a sharp blow to the side to his head and woke up.
'Muh…' he groaned, waiting for his blurry vision to return to normal. He winced as foreign fingers pressed down on a particularly sore spot of his head.
'Damn, he's got the biggest bump out of all us'
'Good, he probably deserved it,' said a female voice.
The frowning face of Carl Johnson came into view. Conlan dragged his body into sitting and looked around. He was in a big black box, it took him a while to realise they were moving; the low hum of an engine filled the space and every now and again there would be a bump or groove in the road which made the vehicle jerk and jolt. A small, dim light bulb swung dangerously from the ceiling. There were four others with him, Carl, the two mechanics and Brad. They were all slumped against the sides and looked equally glum.
'What happened?' he muttered.
'Haha! I win…you honestly didn't think he was gonna say 'Where am I?' man, that's so clichéd,' gibed Brad, 'I do believe that's 10 bucks,' he said happily.
'Whatever moron, we didn't shake on it,' sulked Carl 'and in case you didn't notice I'm a little short of dough at the moment,' he said, clipping Brad in the back of the head. Everyone had been stripped down to their pants and undershirts and all other belongings; wallets, cell phones, had been taken.
'Looks like your Thai pals came back for a little revenge,' said Ryan, in response to Conlan's original question.
'What did you say to them to get 'em so pissed in the first place?' said Brad.
'Uhhh…' Conlan squirmed. 'It doesn't matter now…man…what happened to your clothes?' laughed Conlan. Brad glared at him. The Thais hadn't been so generous to him, only leaving him with a pair of black boxers.
'They stunk so bad, I think they burnt them,' scoffed Carl.
'Shut up,' Brad muttered, hugging his knees. There was a sulky silence: everyone to busy tending to their lumpy souvenirs and chewing over their bitterness. Conlan tried to remember what happened, not much. The Thai's came, relieved some outstanding tension, introduced his cranium to an M16 and dumped him in a van.
'O.K, there's one thing I don't get…' began Conlan.
'Oh for the love of God please tell us!' cried Carl mockingly. Everyone glared at him.
'Anyway…I'm here for obvious reasons and they probably knew Brad was related to me, you two…Alice and Ryan, was it?'
'Alex,' corrected Ryan.
'You two managed to seriously embarrass their asses, but Carl? Why would they want him?'
Carl clicked his tongue and stretched nonchalantly.
'Unlike you pussy's, I wasn't gonna go down without a fight,' he said smugly. Several pairs of eyes rolled in unison.
'What didja do?' said Brad, his eyes almost gleaming in mislaid admiration.
'Please, don't encourage him…' muttered Conlan, massaging his temples.
'Well y'know a well some aimed punches here…a kick to the ass there, easy…textbook'
'Huh, that's funny. I remember last seeing you flat on your ass…' said Alex scathingly. Carl opened his mouth to speak, closed it again and then spoke.
'Well… uhh,' he stuttered, 'obviously you weren't conscious enough to see what happened after!' he said, regaining his holier than thou composure.
'Yeah, whatever… hua kuai, you probably screwed a daughter or two,' murmured Alex. Both Carl and Conlan shifted uncomfortably. Alex eyes widened and she smiled.
'I was right…you-' she began, but Carl quickly forced a change of subject.
'Hey, hey that's not the issue here…was that some Thai I heard in your sentence? And who kidnapped us in the first fuckin' place….uhhh I don't know… THAI'S!' hollered Carl, almost hysterically. Alex clenched her fist and gritted her teeth.
'Woah dude, back up! What the hell are you suggesting?' said Ryan, trying to maintain his calm.
'Ohh…I'm sorry did I hear COINCIDENCE?!' shot back Carl.
'Jesus,' groaned Conlan, sinking further to the floor as various profanities and screams were exchanged between the three. So this is what happened when nicotine denied humans were forced into a small box- reduced to screaming, unreasonable assholes. He wasn't surprised; he had lost all faith in people years ago. He reached for his back pocket and patted for his flask but realised in painful apprehension that it was probably on the lips of some greasy foreigner. He sighed. Could that girl be anything to do with this? It was months ago. If it was, he honestly didn't know she was the daughter of some manic Thai. Why did Mafioso's get so uptight if you banged their spawn anyway? The uncanny presence of silence interrupted his thoughts. The low rumbling of the engine had died and the fiery arguments had been extinguished. They had stopped. Everyone shuffled upright and Conlan exchanged worried looks with Ryan- who had managed to retain level-headiness throughout the whole escapade. The lock of the van's door clunked and Carl got up, flexing his fingers and cracking his knuckles, and walked towards the door. The entrance opened slowly, Conlan peered out. The outline of a figure stood against an early evening sky.
'Idiot,' muttered a voice behind him, as Carl's attack was quickly, casually blocked and counteracted with a punch to the nose.
'Arghhhhh,' gargled Carl, stumbling backwards onto the floor, clutching his face as crimson liquid seeped through the cracks of his fingers. The faint light illuminated a bald man, in a black suite and tie with dark shades.
'Mr Delaney?' he said in perfect English, his voice, deep and focussed, echoing in the recesses of the van. Brad whimpered and stood up shakily.
'No, not you, you idiot… me!' hissed Conlan.
'Oh!' he squawked as Conlan thumped him in pure frustration.
'Follow me,' the man said
Ryan watched Conlan as he followed the stranger outside. The door shut with a clank and everything was silent once more.
'Son-of-a-bitch,' spat Carl, lifting his head backwards as the blood continued to drip from his nose into small red blotches on his white tank top.
'You're supposed to tilt your head forward slightly, not back,' said Ryan.
'What?' snapped Carl.
'If you lean your head back, you might swallow some blood and-'
'All right, all right Einstein I get the picture,' he snarled.
'Man, I'm only tryin' to help…Jesus…' muttered Ryan, holding up his hands. A sniff from his right side ushered his attention onto Alex, who held her face in her hands.
'You O.k?' he murmured, nudging her playfully. She looked up at him and glared.
'Ryan…in the past 24 hours I have been held hostage, shot at while driving eighty miles per hour down a one way street, then in quick succession…I mowed over a pedestrian, shot at again, had my head feel like its been spilt open then to top it all off…' she shook a finger dangerously, '… locked in a small square box with four male assholes,' she said, then sighed and slumped dejectedly against the side.
'Well….my name is Bradigan Delaney, and I'm an alcoholic…'
'Oh my God…' growled Carl, punching the side of the van 'Please, let me out you bastards!' he yelled.
'And….My Dad killed himself this morning and my Mom died a few years ago,' continued Brad his voice shaking, '…whilst I was tied up and used as a target for some stupid ass Azteca, rescued only to be kidnapped again and stripped to these,' he pointed to his boxers as if they were some disgusting sacrilege. Alex stifled a laugh and grinned at Ryan.
'Ryan…you have been blessed with the gift of clothing, why don't you lend this here poor orphan with a part of your attire…' she smirked. Ryan glowered at her, then at Brad who sat there miserably, shaking and come to think of it, the guy had probably barely just hit adult hood.
'Oh man…..' said Ryan, pulling off his grey t-shirt and flinging it at Brad where it landed on his head and hung awkwardly off the side of his face.
'You're a real good Samaritan,' said Alex jokingly, patting Ryan's shoulder and grinning.
'Awww, thanks man,' said Brad cheerfully, struggling into the t-shirt which clung tightly against his beer abused belly- he still looked ridiculous.
'Whoa, you guys are bringing tears to my eyes,' snorted Carl. Before anyone could reply the door slinked open and a familiar looking Thai, bearing a Winchester, stood at the entrance, gazing at them fiercely.
'All of you…out!'
Everyone stood up instantly, even Carl obeyed wordlessly, glad that some kind of development was happening; even if it did involve three kilograms of fatal steel pointed their way. They were ushered into the cool early evening air; stars were beginning to twinkle faintly as the last of the light slipped away. The van had stopped in the middle of a dusty beaten track. Ryan's eyes gazed over the rolling green country side still dappled in evening light. He recognized it as somewhere north of Los Santos where the hicks slinked lazily about the streets bragging about their tractors and cops tilted up their fancy cow boy hats at lost looking urbanites.
They were on the edge of a cliff. The sea, which acted as a neat and handy border between Los Santos and Las Venturas, lay stretched out before them, still in the calm air. Three other Thai's were stationed in a line also armed, and their faces expressionless. The guard motioned them to the edge of the cliff. Ryan dared himself to peer over down at the sea, as he was nudged into position: a foot away from the cliff's edge. The sea was still calmly splashing this close to the cliff face, if there were rocks he couldn't see them… How far were they up? 120 feet? They were probably going to die anyway, it was worth a shot. If you were going to shoot someone this would be the place to do it- easy body disposal, far out in the country, where no one would think twice if they heard a gun shot. He glanced at Alex who appeared to be thinking the same thing. She nodded. He turned back to their captors, a black Remington had pulled up on the dusty track. Ryan's stomach lurched in hope that a wayward driver had stumbled upon the show but the windows were tinted and another Thai clone stepped out. He tugged a dishevelled Conlan by the scruff of his white wifebeater and motioned his revolver towards the group. Conlan ambled over, stony-faced and his hands quivering, he shot a puzzled look at the group, all standing stock still in a row at the edge of the cliff. He heard Alex beside him whisper 'jump' out of the corner of her mouth, Conlan just stared dumbly. Another Thai had joined them, ordinarily Ryan wouldn't have noticed as they were all so familiar but this one was wearing a black pinstripe suit, matching vest and a red tie. He was a small man, roughly in his 30's. His hair was cut close and he looked at them pretentiously through menacing shades: there was something unwholesome about wearing sunglasses in the semi-darkness.
He peered sadly down at his black loafers, which were fast attracting a fine layer of brown dust and removed his shades, folding them carefully into an inside pocket. His eyes bored heavily into Ryan's, who held his gaze. The man's lip curled and he whistled sharply. A guard jerked into attention and cautiously handed the man an Uzi, who surveyed it and nodded curtly. Ryan heard gulps, and then realized it was himself almost choking in cold drenching fear. The man held it in two hands and pointed it at them, his mouth curving into a venomous smile, his gleaming eyes flashing the phrase 'tough luck'. 'I guess this is it…' thought Ryan, well he'd rather die of a short slap into a cold ocean than at the gun point of some short ass mute Thai. Stupidly shouting 'NOW!' to the rest would only alert the Thais, doing it silently would give them a one second head start, he just hoped the others would have the brains, courage and dumb luck to jump in after him. 120 feet? Nothing. That was Ryan's last thought as he launched himself sideways off the cliff edge, The wind screamed past, and gunshots flew over head as his body whooshed through the air. He straightened himself as best he could which was almost impossible with the wind buffeting his flailing limbs. He closed his eyes and held his breath as the water sped closer. He just hoped it was goddamn deep…