-Barry
They were both impressed to say the least. Barry was patted down as was Joo as they were let into the suite. This was the kind of digs Barry had hustled nearly all his life to one day be able to afford and here was this motherfucker sitting at the top right where he should have been.
The 1%, Illuminati whatever you wanted to call it this dude was it and unlike most of the elite in the country this nigga got it by ill gotten means. Or better yet when he thought about it maybe they were one and the same as far as where they landed on the low morality scale.
Most politicians and bankers were crooks if not all of them only they used pens not guns. If they did use guns it was usually somebody else to do it for them. Mauser lit up a Cuban cigar and offered one to each of them. The younger stoner declined but Barry indulged as the rich man lit up for him.
"So the two of you are clearly very capable in getting things done. We could use people like you. As loyal as he is, men like Flint are not the future of the Cotton Ball organization. They just don't see the bigger picture. What needs to be done."
Flint called from another room., "I heard that!" One of Mauser's bodyguards yelled, "Shut up! You speak when spoken to, boy! Or do you need a good kick across the chops to remind you?" Barry took a puff. "All due respect, Mr. Mauser me and Jrue aint no organized king pins like that. What could you possibly need with us?"
The Sunbelt leader smiled and softly said, "I wouldn't sell myself short if I were you, Mr. St. Clair. While I am not a native of Liberty City I have frequented there many times and I enjoyed it there but what I've read up on you, you were involved with some very bad men. Very influential men. North Holland Hustlers, Caribbean connections like Little Jacob, hell even the Yardies down here know him some even grew up with him ask King Kojo about that. Then there's the McReary brothers you did some side deals with them."
Barry blew smoke. "That wasn't all me, dawg that was my pops, I was just following him God rest his soul. How do you know so much about me? I don't know you like that."
Mauser went up to one of his desks and said, "Files courtesy of a friend of mine in the Sunbelt Police department, courtesy of a friend of his in the LCPD."
Barry's heart skipped a beat and he went for his gun only to find two Heckler and Koch's, an M4 Bushmaster, and several pistols aimed at him. "I wouldn't do that if I was you, Barry," Barry growled, "Motherfucker you're working with pigs? I'm a fugitive, nigga I can't be fucking with you! I'll die before I go back too so ya'll better kill me right here but I'm taking one of you with me."
The gang boss laughed. "Calm down, friend. It's nothing that is a conflict of interests. They're in my pocket," He beckoned for the guards to lower their bodyguard who had a Carbine at Barry's back had not lowered his even while the others did. "Perry..."
Mauser started in a scolding tone. "What's the problem?"
Perry was a big corn fed white boy who easily stood seven feet tall. He wore a ten gallon cowboy hat plus a black lapel suit. He also had a blonde mustache and beard and cowboy boots. "I don't like these two, boss. Can't trust people from Liberty City I don't trust out of towners and something tells me these boys are going to be more trouble than they're worth. With this one right here if he's got all kinds of law on his back he could bring a lot of trouble on our back doors."
Barry warned, "You heard the man put your fucking rifle down, boy."
Mauser calmly stated, "I told you to lower the weapon, Perry. I don't like to repeat myself. I'm only going to do it once. Now I've told you twice. You know what happens if I have to tell you a third time, right?"
Barry got the feeling by the look in the southern king pin's cold stare that he wouldn't just have him killed straight up.
Whatever the insidious threat was, it was obviously much worse and probably much slower than a simple gunshot. Judging by the sweat at the guard's brow and the shaken look on his face, Barry figured it must have been some kind of signature Cotton Ball style of punishment. He wondered what it was.
The guard lowered the weapon but complained, "Can't believe you're letting a couple of man kissing Yankees live, boss. We could just shoot em and then have Flint get rid of the bodies as penance for us having to get him sprung from the clink!"
The man reminded his subordinate, "I decide who gets shot, who lives and who dies. You've been with us ten years, I would think you'd know that by now. Besides these two did us a favor. Flint may be dumb as a rock but he at least can follow directions. Usually. Killing them now would be bad business etiquette."
The man lowered his gaze. "Yes sir..."
He then turned back to the Haitian American. "I didn't ask them to look into you to get you into any trouble. On the contrary I can get you a new ID, passport, whole new life. I want you on my team you and college boy here. I just wanted to see if anybody important had their arm around you."
Barry demanded, "Why? That shit is the past. I can never go back to Liberty."
Mauser blew smoke this time nearly finished with his. "I wanted to make sure you're not a police officer yourself. While undercover law enforcement are able to go to great lengths to provide back stories for their infiltration assignments, I know that in order for one to be undercover their cover must be known by their own department but a man with every policeman from Los Santos to Hove Beach after you, I doubt you'd be in any position to be undercover."
Barry cracked up. "Oh what you're serious, motherfucker? Me a UC? You gotta be kidding me. Jrue here even fits that more than me no offense homie," He then wondered, "Why you want Jrue in on this? Again that's my boy and everything and we get paper together but he's kinda new to this life."
Mauser put the cigar put smashing it into an ashtray and sat at a table. "Can I get you fellas a drink?" He snapped his finger and a pretty Caucasian woman with brown eyes and reddish brown hair in a black halter top went behind the mini bar. "The younger one is peculiar to me. He looks like the last person who'd ever be a criminal He's got that Generation Z hip hop style look to him. He's everything about millennials rolled into one but he's not a proletariat. He looks like he's trying too hard."
Jrue held up his arms a disturbed expression on the young Asian's face, "Guys I'm standing right here."
Mauser explained to the two out of towners, "A man such as this would either be exactly like an undercover cop because he tries too hard except the police are not amateurs anymore. He on the other hand is he's got that look about him. So any cop worth his salt now would look more like you, Barry."
Jrue smirked as the judgemental tables had turned. "Jrue on the other hand, even though we know he is new to this lifestyle, he has been able to adapt to it. You are highly intelligent you had one of the best GPA's at your college. Before you ask, I got your transcripts. I'm telling you I can get things done which is why the two of you would benefit for coming to work for me."
Jrue crossed his arms. "You said my weaknesses so what's the plus side to having me if I'm an amature?" Mauser looked at the kid a moment then said, "Jrue, you're like the rapper who talks about what happens on the street where as Barry is the one who actually lives the life they're talking about!"
Jrue frowned but Mauser chuckled, "Relax kid I'm just pulling your leg. The truth is because you don't look like a criminal master mind or even a criminal at all people out here are going to misjudge you as a pushover. Underestimate you. That's where your advantage is. Hell any general could tell ya that."
Jrue seemed more satisfied with that answer. Barry asked, "So what's up, man? What is it you're gonna want us to do for you?"
Mauser exchanged numbers with the two men and said, "For now, nothing but I will be in touch. We'll have more to discuss on the matter of the lottery ticket. So I take it we have a deal?"
Barry sighed. He was making connections with the Ballas now which was cool but he was walking a tightrope just by doing that since him and Jrue were now not only getting bread with but friends to Chip and he was from the other side.
While it wasn't really an issue so much for Jrue since he hadn't met the purple homies he was at least partly safe unless any might come after Chip and get him in the process. If either side found out Barry was working with both sides he didn't think it would go over too well.
On the flip side there was Ernesto and maybe he could even supply them with more shit to sling or provide some kind of support but it was really a fifty fifty shot he'd go for it if asked even if it was money to be made the fact is, though they were cool and had done some licks, Ernesto was still an Azteca which meant more street level bullshit. Of course he had seen him do business with the Yardies and they weren't La Raza but that was something that was mutually beneficial for both gangs.
Barry wasn't any gang member. Neither was Jrue. He had to look out for the little homie. So while getting in bed with a bunch of crackers in suits and cowboy hats was a bad idea it could also be a big business opportunity. It wasn't that Barry ever had a problem working outside his comfort zone he'd worked with McReary's and while he never had liked Gerald, Packie was aight even Derrick was too.
They'd had a sister but she wasn't about that life.
What made the McReary's trustworthy was they were pretty much as gutter poor as Barry and his pops had been hustling in the projects through hard times and even their old spots in Purgatory got gentrified like a motherfucker. These dudes here were already rich.
They were no different than those assholes in the Commission.
That reminded him that those mobbed up dick heads had contacted him wanting him to come across state for some business too. He didn't want to have to deal with them but Barry didn't like to be in anybody's debt either and much as he hated Cosa Nostra since they'd always tried to act like they ran the streets and not the corner boys trapping on the ave, they had still busted him out of Alderney. He was as much in their debts because of that as Flint and the Cotton Ball Mafia was to them cause of what he had done for them.
So while it was an uncomfortable feeling he got in his gut he figured maybe the two could help each other out. "Yeah I'm in but only if Jrue is. We're both from outta town and outta towners gotta stick together."
The richer criminal laughed. "Hey I understand, amigo! You go with what you're comfortable with I get it. You're an odd pair but you know how to get things done," Jrue spoke up, "Yeah I'm with you, Barry. Just hope you know what you're doing."
Barry wasn't sure if he meant him or Mr. Mauser. "Well then let's shake on it," He extended his hand. Barry wondered why, "Why we gotta shake hands, bro? I said we're down. Word of mouth."
The older man made a tsk tsk sound. "I know being from the north east you must find southern customs to be particularly strange but here in Kiowa County, an arrangement is null and void until the two parties shake hands."
Jrue seemed to find this strangest of all. Barry didn't as he had been in Vice City before so he'd seen this kind of behavior before. "Really?" Mauser ordered, "Perry, if either Jrue or Barry tries to leave the room without shaking my hand I want you to shoot them both."
The man raised the rifle and grinned, "With pleasure," Jrue did as he asked but Barry said, "This is how you wanna play this? This isn't a good way to start a business relationship. Pointing guns at motherfuckers?" This got a laugh out of him. "Hey you pointed one at me, first! I agree that it isn't a good way to start a business relationship because if you haven't got trust what do you have?"
Barry agreed. "That's why i'm saying tell your boy to lower the heater cause that makes it really hard to trust you.
Especially taking away our guns before so that only you and your boys have them."
The man stood up and said, "I don't have any firearms on me. I do in my bedroom of course. This is New Austin. I don't know anybody who isn't packing but I don't have a gun on me more importantly I didn't pull one on you. The check at the door is for safety. We've had people try to make assassination attempts."
Barry thought, Assassinate? Who you think you are, JFK? No they tried to shoot you you aint no VIP you're a thug in a three piece suit. Stick up kids tried to shoot you not assassinate you.
What he said was only, "Still, I reacted like anybody from my neighborhood would if a stranger said they got our file. How am I supposed to trust you when you keep dropping bombs like that and we haven't even worked together yet?"
The suit said, "Well for starters, Mr. St. Clair we have worked together. I employed you tonight for which you will be fully accommodated for your services. Second, you say you have trust issues with the guns well imagine how I feel on my end."
Mauser was calm but assertive. "Perry, a lot of your soldiers are ripping off pharmacy's for sudafed. You want to get all high and mighty when there's houses and trailer parks being closed down because of their operations? That shit gets into the walls people can't even live there anymore.
As for the statue I thought you hated Liberty City?"
"I just hate the people but Lady Happiness is as American as Apple Pie or...or Freedom Fries!"
Meanwhile they went into the elevator and Jrue asked, "So do you think Ernesto will be on board with helping Mauser down the line since his baby mama works for him? That dude is a straight up pimp I bet he gets crazy pussy with a pad like that."
Barry hit the L button. "Man, fuck that bitch. He needs to move on from that shit. Honestly we could use an extra hand we know but if he's gonna get back with that bitch he aint a man a real man wouldn't dwell in the past feel me he'd move on. If he does help Mauser he needs to do it for himself not some ratchet that left him soon as he took a ride on a gray goose."
Jrue looked at him with somewhat of a hurt expression."Man don't you remember what I told you happened to me before I moved out west?"
Barry looked at the door. "Yeah and you gotta move on from that shit. That bitch aint worth your time you with Rocky now and on the real you can get any side bitch you want too shit Rocky will probably even get you a threesome! I mean no disrespect, dawg I just mean she seems cool like that. You never know..."
Jrue looked down. "Whatever..." Barry got his Ifruit phone out which he had recently purchased at Tinfoil Hat Electronics after that Calico lick. "Hey Ernesto, listen you down to kick it? Got something me and the boy J needed to spit at you about."
Ernesto sounded skeptical even without being there to see the look on the cholos face. "Yo no say. I mean if the carnalitos and carnalitas from the clique catch the three of us together they might lose their cool. Hair trigger tempers and hair triggers. What with you making nice with the Ballas and all. Plus Jrue and that chico Chip? Shit if the homies ever found out I shook a Graves hand to to rob that pimp, I could get green lit myself. Nobody's above that vote if you fuck up. Nobody's above the reglas. Not even me. Especially not me because I'm meant to know our charter better than anybody!"
Barry was glad Jrue hadn't heard him say that since Barry was trying to play his cards close and to be cool with Families and Ballas both was a risky move even if niggas from both sides knew he didn't bang so he had no allegiance to either, all it took was for one side to catch him with the other then there was nothing anybody could do.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Jrue to keep his mouth shut but he still thought just from body language the Sunbelt Family Groves he'd been dealing business with would pick up on it.
It would be like he said something without saying anything. "Don't trip it's not like i'm asking to get put on it's just knocking some brews back like grown folks. Aint nobody gotta know shit. Got something I wanted to chop it up with you about that's all. Can you meet up?"
Ernesto seemed to be outside as he could hear cars and chatter in the background. He must have been looking to see what street he was on. "Bueno. I'm in the Cinema District downtown. 615 New Austin Way."
They reached their floor. "Aight cool. I'll pick you up sit tight."
As they got down there, an African American male who had lighter skin and green eyes wearing a three piece suit approached the two. "Can I help you?"
Barry asked. "Mr. Mauser says if you're going to work for the organization you're going to need a company car. Can't have you two stealing a car from one of these socialites. All eyes would look toward him if you did. You understand. IRS and FIB keep trying to find a way to get to him."
Barry was given the keys to a dark red Albany. Jrue put the radio to Diss FM and the song Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar played. "Hey you know how you said the west coast wasn't about shit but low riders and blunts? Well check this cut out homie."
-Ernesto
They started opening fire anyway. Even the man driving the Picador was firing with one hand over the side of the hood out the driver window but he was a shitty shot or maybe it was just due to the fact that he was focused more on driving than aiming and was only firing so that if he did get lucky and shoot somebody, anybody from an Aztecas hood, even a bystander he could say he participated.
One Rifa, who instead of being dressed in cholo style clothing like the vato in the teal was, was dressed more like the black Hip Hop style. He wore a San Fierro 69ers snapback the coloring of the hat, red while the SF was black in color, plus baggy black jeans hanging halfway off his ass revealing red and gray plaid drawers as he had half his body out of the window shooting at the PVL members.
He fired a 9mm that had a three round burst setting. He hit one of the Aztecas, a man of Central American descent, in his early thirties. The man had a mostly shaved head but with some hair on top. This man had been referred to by other Aztecas as Charlie. From what little he knew of him he was a recent arrival from Guatemala.
The man was stocky, five foot nine in size and had been wearing a dark blue T shirt with the Radio Mundo station logo in white lettering, plus plaid shorts and high socks as was common attire for many old school cholos.
Flaco hollered, "Llantero!" As he fired back at the guy but the scrawny little weasel was fast and got back in the ride for cover. The two in back were firing at Ernesto, Flaco and Snapper. "That's their OG! Get that motherfucker!" Yelled a Rifa wearing a Liberty City Beavers jersey, black gym shorts, plus a red bandanna over the lower part of his face while a teal one covered the top half. Flaco blindly fired in cover behind a yellow Sabre GT.
Charlie took two rounds in the shoulder on the left side just a few inches away from the heart. Another round hit him in the left leg entering through the ankle lodging into the shin.
Ernesto spotted an Azteca with a bald head that looked very familiar dressed in neutral colors. He wore a crisp white long T shirt and though h did not sag like African American gang members and Rifas did, his shirt was almost down to his knees.
He wore blue stonewashed jeans. "I'm a veterano too, punks! Come get me, ese!" He was firing a M911 at them taking out one of the tail lights of the Picador. Of the two men in back one of them had a Micro Uzi.
The guy in the sports jersey yelled, "We told you we were coming back! Rifas siempre! Fuck all haters!" Ernesto fired back hitting one of the men in the armpit. This one was wearing a red and white Letterman jacket and baggy blue jeans. He fell almost falling out of the back but his homie caught him with one arm while spraying the Uzi wildly like a madman with the other.
Thirty two rounds flew all over the block. T
he man in the 69'ers had hit a thirty five year old woman from Mexico. "Manny watch your aim, bro! We're here to kill Aztecas not civilians, perro!" Warned the driver. Manny was arrogant. "Fuck that paisa, homie! Bitch got what she deserves for living in a hood full of South side ratas!"
Snapper boldly stepped out of cover reloading the .45's. He unloaded four shots each at the back of the car. The two gang members in the back ducked own but he did manage to hit the mayatero in the 69'ers hat with four slugs in the small of his back just as he was getting back in the car as they made their getaway.
Ernesto came out, spotting another Azteca that had fallen, this guy about twenty eight years old. He was straight out of Mexico, with the number 1 on one cheek and 8 on the other. He'd been fighting in the war with Mara Bunta in Mexico where it was ten times more hardcore than any street gang war in the USA and had survived the machete wielding maniacs only to be gunned down here in the streets of Sunbelt. He wore an aqua blue checkered shirt plus gray cargo pants.
He had taken one bullet next to his right ear. Ernesto took the man's dropped gun, a Browning. He aimed at the men in the car. He fired on the guy that had already been hit once as he and his homie were concerned for the one in the front that was shot.
The man cried out as Ernesto let off two rounds, one hitting him in the right shoulder the other in the back. The man fell out of his ride and this time they failed to get him. An Azteca hyna emerged from her house dressed in a blue and black checkered flannel shirt over a gray half shirt, plus white pants, and she was carrying what looked like a Tec 9.
Ernesto didn't even know they still made those! Another gang member, a man, this guy in his mid twenties was loading a bannana clip into an AK-47.
They both opened up on the car but they were already up the block taking off and even the rounds that did hit the back windshield did not hit anybody as the other man in the ack plus the wounded man and driver were ducked down. The man with the uzi cried out, "What about DJ, man? We can't just leave him! Those Gacho Jotos will kill him!"
The driver hollered back, "There's nothing we can do! If we go back there we're all fucked! We gotta get Manny to a fucking hospital or he'll bleed out! Fuck those punks! We dusted a couple of those bitches! If DJ lives he'll be a hero if he dies he'll be a legend that gave his life for the hood!"
The Aztecas rushed the wounded member in the street, DJ. The woman and man were the first to get to him. They began kicking him as he was down. The hyna, who was actually pretty attractive was also very angry and kind of scary.
It made Ernest's balls cringe a bit as she kicked the man in the groin. "Fucking bitch! Shooting up my varrio, eh? Hijo de puta!" The man with the AK pointed it in the face of the North side gang member who was bleeding both from wounds and from the cuts the woman had given him, plus in his mouth as he had kicked a few teeth out.
The cholo demanded, "Well what's it gonna be, cabron? You gonna die for your varrio like a man or you going to beg for your life like the chavala all you busters are?" The woman kicked him again. "You pig! You shot an innocent lady!"
The woman that had been hit had died in Snapper's arms, getting blood on his clothes. He looked down at her almost looking like the kid he was meant to be. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen to you!"
Ernesto and Flaco reached the gang member too.
Flaco lifted the man to his feet. He ordered the homies to stop thumping on him. "Who sent you, pendejo? Who's your shot caller?" The man spat blood in his face. "Fuck you! Bitch ass scrapa! I'll die for my hood! I don't give a fuck!" Ernesto grabbed him by the throat. "Y que? You saw your homies left you for dead, right? You want to die for those pieces of shit?!"
The man was defiant. "Fuck yeah! I aint telling you shit! Even if they played me for a fool, the rest of the hood wouldn't have. They'll be doing hit ups with my name all over the city!" The OG who Ernesto saw before walked up.
He remembered him now! Guero. "Erenesto? Shit, homie I didn't know that was you, ese! I heard you'd been back. I just touched down myself."
Ernesto slapped hands with the man. He was an old homeboy from back in the day. He was as much a part of the old crew as Flaco and Sucia was. "Como esta, homie? Yeah I just got back into town," Flaco started to say, "That's what I wanted to tell you about, ese...he..."
Guero said, "Hang on we got other business to attend to," He shoved the Rifa. "Orale, punk. I know you'll never give up your homies but I'm going to need some financial compensation. What kind of car do you drive?"
The man flipped him the bird. The bald veterano grabbed his finger and with a simple snap, broke it and the man cried out dropping to his knees. "Let's try this again, bitch! What kind of carucha do you have? You want to go to the hospital or the cemetery, homes?"
The guy growled, "If I show up back in my hood still alive my homies will know what's up...thinking I helped you in some way...told you something you could use against them," Flaco crossed his arms. "Must not be your homies, then. Maybe you're right maybe you're not. Maybe they'd think you were more of a down soldado for escaping our hood and making it back. It'll look better though if you're laid up in the ER all fucked up, than if you show up there. That way at least they'd believe the puercos scooped you up then you just say they tried to get you to speak but you wouldn't. If you got clout in your barrio it should work."
The guy was uncertain so Sucia, who was nearby, aimed her own Desert Eagle at the man. "What's it gonna be, cono? Hospital or the grave yard? If you don't pick in five seconds I'll pick for you and you know which one!" The man broke. "All right! I'm not telling you guys anything...about where my homies stay but if you're just trying to get some feria...I get it...I drive a white Stallion. It's parked downtown, okay?"
Flaco and Sucia helped the wounded man, Charlie to his feet. Flaco ordered, "Ernesto, you take Snapper and Guero with you and this chavalo. Make sure he's not bullshitting. If he is you know what to do,"
They got into a dark gray Tornado with the top down which Flaco tossed him the keys to.
He gave Ernesto a subliminal nod and threw up the A hand sign for their gang. Ernesto returned it. "Ometeotl,"
They got in the car with the wounded Rifa in the back seat, Snapper keeping his.45's on him and with Guero up front. Ernesto took off up the street. "Guero spoke to Ernesto saying, "So I guess with you being gone all this time, and Flaco running the calles while I was away, he must not have told you, huh?"
Ernesto was puzzled. "Told me what?" Guero spelled it out for the seasoned gang member. "I'm shot caller. I've been running the hood for like thirteen years homie. I've just been inside on bullshit possession charges but they couldn't keep me forever I still got one strike left. One more chance. Flaco was just acting jefe while I was inside. Say hello to the new boss homes!"
Ernesto didn't like the sound of that. "I never had you pegged for the leadership type, Guero. Don't you remember when I first got out of jail, summer of 93'? 4th of July block party? That one tagger crew that just lived three blocks away from us. You went and lit up three vatos younger than us just because one of them had a pair of shoes you wanted."
There had been this tagger crew known as Parker Avenue Lokotes back in the day that had started in the late 80's because they didn't like the influx of out of town gangs from San Andreas and Carcer City moving south and east to Sunbelt. They had never been much more than a tagger crew that occasionally had fist fights and parties in the few streets they lived in. They'd had some pretty women in their crew.
There had been a few instances where he and Marisol had split up and got back together on and off like a light switch even with kids and often only did get back together due to the children they had together. So in 89 even when Ernesto had been shooting it out with and fighting people from their crew he'd still fucked hynas from there who were more of party girls than serious bangers.
He'd even had sex with one hyna from there in his lowrider the same night he'd executed two members himself on orders of Rusty, their leader at the time.
They had no ties to any national gangs and had no allies they were just a local crew with no roots anywhere outside Sunbelt. Not even Mexico so they had no chance since they'd gotten into it with Puro Vatos Locos plus the other surrounding Azteca cliques in the area.
In a way he'd almost felt bad for them because they were such under dogs. None of them had actually started shooting at Aztecas even with the beef on until 1990. They'd started getting into the drug game to keep up with enemies.
Guero lit a cigarette and chuckled. "Hell yeah those were good times bro but we all gotta grow up sometime," Ernesto wasn't about to let that one go. "Really? You mind telling me where Rusty is these days?"
The OG solemnly replied, "He's gone, E. PAL got him in a drive by two years after you left. They were mad at us because we'd been fucking them for years and they'd been fighting us back but they never had more than forty members even when they tried to recruit and that was in 92'. By 96' we'd taken them down to less than thirty. Like twenty five I think. So they got themselves a hooptie and hit the corners with all the ammo they had and they got him. They hit some stoner too on accident."
Ernesto swallowed. Rusty had been a good homie to him and had helped put him on and had looked after and kept an eye on him after Ernesto Sr. got life. The Rifa was smirking at this nobody seemed to notice but him.
"So for the next three years me and Flaco were running around taking out any of those faggots we could. Them and every other enemy of course but were were out for blood and wanted Parker Ave to be history."
"Come new millennium they were. Only a few guys were left and they stopped flying colors and the guy that did get Rusty got fifteen years. He got in even more trouble so he's rotting away inside. The homies have tried get to him in there but they put him in PC against his will ever since he was shanked on the yard by a Vago."
Ernesto couldn't get his mind around one thing. "So I gotta slisten to you even though I'm Onda and you're not just cause you're shot caller? What the fuck?"
The OG said, "Hey that's the way it is homes. You can give me orders on behalf of La Onda but when it's strictly our varrio I'm the one making the decisions. Flaco knew what's up. If i get locked up again or don't make it he's running things again. You've been out of town too long to remember how shit is around here."
Ernesto chuckled, "It's not the me if anything it's more like Los Santos only more like what Los Santos was in the 90's And where they were in the 80's was where we were in the 90's.I'd say I'm pretty much ready for whatever this city throws at me. After so may years in the pen, doing all the robberies I did, aint nothing new to me anymore."
Guero laughed. "That riot? You ready to take Rico charges? Gang injunctions all that shit? Ah what am I saying you're Onda you've already been through all that shit. Just be glad you're on the outside and not the inside. I couldn't take being in there. I aint a faggot homes so I couldn't live like that and let's face it much as I love our carnales most are doing life I with that no women no fast food, no more bodegas homie I'll pass I'll stay being shot caller on the streets making my money even if it does mean that I'm still only a foot soldier for the Mexikanemi. Every boss has a boss."
Ernesto reminded him, "You know no homosexuality is tolerated anyway among members, man. You're not Onda here so don't speak on it! Or if you do just don't speak out of place. I never batted for the other team and never will."
Guero shrugged, "Look it aint that I didn't try and be Onda, man I put in a lot of work for the brothers inside I just don't want to be one of the carnales that's serving life I mean even if most of the jefes end up in SHU for life, that's no way to live. I mean Loco Syndicate tells their little homies that anybody they're thinking of letting in has to get it in their head that some day you'll be serving life ese i mean our side acknowledges that someday all south siders get locked up and will need protection and guidance and yeah most Onderos are serving life sentences but we don't speak on it like it's a guarantee and I don't want to have the way it is with the Syndicate be our standards."
The Rifa continued to give directions and finally they had arrived at his vehicle. Ernesto ordered, "Start the car and then get out. DJ did as he was told. He got got of the car and Guero said, "Lie on your stomach, E, get in the car. Snapper, you take the Peyote back to the hood."
Before he did that he made him walk fifteen paces from the Stallion.
Snapper got in the driver seat and threw up an A out of the window was he drove back. Ernesto whistled to Guero, "Vamanos muchacho! We need to go! You're the captain of this ship so you tell me where we go now. Let that little fucker go."
Guero said, "Sure thing, homie," With that he fired his own pistol into the back of DJ's head. The youth fell down his eyes and mouth open with shock as his brains were blown out of the exit and entrance wound. He got in the passenger seat and said, "Okay now we can go. Step on it!"
Ernesto questioned the shot caller, "What the fuck, G? I told him I'd let him go! You just made me out to be a liar!" Guero laughed as they drove off. "Don't trip, vato it's not like that north side puto can tell anybody about it!" He wasn't about to let that one go. "I told him we'd let him go! That's the point and you just shot him down in the street like an asshole!"
Guero put the radio to 104.5 and the song El Cuerpo Del Deseo by Lorena Rojas played. Though Ernesto liked this song and the artist he was unable to enjoy the song due to what had just happened and Guero's nonchalant attitude. "He was a rojo wearing chapa, bro. He was an asshole! You said what you had to in order to manipulate him."
Ernesto said, "Not him, you, cabron! You made a liar of me. You told him you'd give him a pass. You asked him if he wanted to go to the cemetery or the hospital,"
This prompted a laugh from the gang leader. "That wasn't shit. I was just blowing smoke up his ass you know that! Since when do we give Rifas a pass anyway? They're the enemy. They're all green lit. As a representative of the carnales you know that better than anybody. Anybody with Loco Syndicate or any of their foot soldiers on the streets has to be shot on sight. I've had to stick homies in the neck just because they refused to kill some North Siders when they'd been homies with them back in school. That's just the way it is. You might have been friends before you got jumped in but now they're all the enemy por vida."
Ernesto said, "I'm just going off what you said. Hospital or graveyard. You gave him that idea. Maybe Flaco too but Flaco is still a man of his word."
Guero disagreed. "Flaco does whatever the fuck I tell him to and when we're speaking on behalf of the varrio and the cliqua you better too. I listen to you on behalf of Onda since they control all the gangas you should show me the same respect in what little control I got,"
He then smiled wickedly. "It's not like I lied anyway. The hospitals got morgues.
Ernesto scowled as they drove down Sunbelt avenue getting as far away from where the shooting had just happened as possible. "What about La Raza? Mexikanemi means we're soldiers of Aztlan. How can we ever be whole again when we're at war with half of our own? That's bullshit, ese. I've put in a lot of work and given away so many years of my life on the streets and in the cells just to show I was a down soldado."
Guero busted up in laughter. "Those lames aren't our gente! They're just some dumb ass farmeros from northern San Andreas. The homies back west knew they were lame since the 60's, dog. You know what, Ernesto, I got love for the homies in San Andreas but personally I think the state made you into a candy assed liberal, homes!"
Ernesto said, "The fuck did you just say?"
Guero explained, "Yeah, I'd heard about Mirror Parque man and their varrio wasn't what it was in the 80's and 90's. Now it's a haven for lame ass hipsters. Bunch of Bean Machine fuckers, man! Maybe you spent too much time in those internet cafes reading feminist blogs or something or new age seminars. You aint the Ernesto I know and grew up with. So maybe the carnales out there are cool but the state as a whole is full of hippies and fags just making softies out of real men. At least out here motherfuckers are hardcore everywhere."
Ernesto growled as they turned down Walker avenue. "The homies in Mirror Park may be a lot less than there used to be there's very few Aztecas out there and in truth Mirror Park was a main line Vagos hood so you saw yellow out there more often than teal but they're still our hermanos and hermanas. I was above that set trip bullshit out there and it was them who took me in when i moved to Los Santos. If I wasn't Onda that would be hood hopping but since I am it wasn't. Still it wasn't that many Aztecas but I networked and did dirt with them too. They were happy to meet a homie from Sunbelt repping VLA!"
He added as he took a left off Walker and got on Lonestar street, "Another thing, Guero you and I go way back you're my coma from back in the day but if you question me having heart again I'll pull this car over and do you like you did DJ. I'm not going soft, man I'm just starting to lose taste for this bullshit. I could kill green and purple rags all day and never get tired of it cause they genuinely hate us but this barrio pedo is getting old I did all that when I was growing these guys wearing red could be our cousins though man you don't know for sure it's like a civil war!"
Guero scoffed, "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that, for old times sake. Shit maybe I am more cut out to be a carnal than you are, bro. I'll never have love for a buster. As for Aztlan and all that pro raza bullshit you read about in the joint, well we can all be brothers and sisters again when all the Rifas are dead and anybody that might be left drops their flag and chooses to represent South Side from then on. Then we can finish off the Ballas and Families and all these Carcer City dick riders."
Ernesto chuckled, "So you want to take over the world, huh? Fuck politics and the movement and all that shit let's just take over one calle at a time? Shit and I thought I was the dreamer. You know what, Guero? One dead banger isn't worth throwing out years of carnalismo. It's good to have you out, bro. I never could have imagined it but it's good to see you step up."
They pulled up to the chop shop where they'd get their payoff for the car. "Later on, we're gonna have a discussion in the hood about what to do about the Rifas. The homies are still getting into it with the LC guys but maybe in a week maybe after homies on both sides get it out of their system maybe we invite them to the meeting too. I mean we unite in the pen, right? That's how it should be on the streets too that's what the Mexican Mafia did out west so we should do that again here."
As the workers took the car away and they walked to get their pay off Ernesto asked, "Why would they? I mean yeah they're Vagos and they hate Northeners as much as we do but they hate us too, man. Only Mara Bunta hates us more than they do."
Guero agreed, "True but we all hate Norcacas more."
Ernesto sighed, "I just mean that if the homies have just killed some off theirs and they just killed some of ours it's gonna be hard for both sides to overlook that just because Rifas are getting both of us especially if we were the most recent people attacked by them not the Chingones. Plus the cops will be looking for Aztecas to lock up when they find DJ's cuerpo laying there. You know that whore house I shot up that belonged to Mara Bunta? I've been listening to Weazel and they were saying one of the guys that got laid out was actually Los Chingones not Mara Bunta he was just a customer there. If the Salvadorans know it was us, then LC will too and they'll be out for more blood."
The shot caller grinned wickedly. "That's all right, dog I took a little measure to make sure some of that push back falls on the Vagos too. It's dirty I know but if they feel the heat more from the rojos, they'll feel more like helping us."
Meanwhile, back at the vacant lot as the Sunbelt Police Department were taping off the area Homicide detectives got out of their private vehicles and flashed their credentials at the cops in uniforms. One of them, a white male with a shaved head and blue eyes examined the dead body and looked at the hand signal the corpse had been made to throw up by their killer.
In one hand was the letter L, in the other, a C. "Well look at that, Harry. Looks like Vagos did this one. My money would have been on the Aztecas since not twenty minutes ago they just had their neighborhood shot up in a drive-by."
His partner was a white male with dark hair and brown eyes, wearing a gray and red tie plus gray slacks. "Could be bullshit you know. That could very easily be a diversion to get us looking for yellow instead of Turquoise. Then again, I could be wrong. The Rifas are trying to muscle in on any South Side Mexican neighborhoods. So there's bound to be gang tension with every set. I just came from there a couple of innocents got hit. I don't mind when these gang bangers kill each other I say good riddance but when it's hard working families, even illegals, it makes me sick."
The bald one, Detective Grady Andrews said, "Yeah, Doug, it probably is but we have to look into every angle. They have always been the oldest brand of Southern San Andrean gangs. Both out there and out here. They were the original foot soldiers in the shoe wars. Really the Aztecas and Mara Bunta are just sub gangs of Vagos anyway. So consider the source it's all the same kind of street filth they just represent different cliques and neighborhoods that's the only difference."
A uniformed pig confirmed saying, "We're questioning the neighbors out that way in the Heights. Don't expect much of an answer though. Barrio folks tend to be silent. Buncha immigrant families lot of them don't have papers and even if they do they don't want to get shot themselves."
An African American female cop shook her head. "You know I grew up on MLK and Douglass. I always saw people shot over either green or violet but I just don't understand why none of these assholes just don't at least tolerate the neighbors snitching on the enemies. It's not like their friends can't just get to the shooters in county lockup anyway. It only takes one call. Kill two birds with one stone."
Detective Doug Sanders replied, "Come on, Sadie you know better than that. The logic goes if they snitch on the rivals they'll snitch on the homeboys. Zero tolerance period.I don't expect to find logic in a bunch of gangsters anyway. I miss the days of the Cosa Nostra at least those fat bastards knew how to keep innocents out of harms way. Little Italy was always one of the safest areas in the country because of it. They did things differently."
Sadie smiled saying, "I don't doubt up there in the north the mob can bribe the police but here in Ross County we take the law very seriously. At least most people do. Everything comes with a price and even if their community didn't have violence for a while there were still mob hits in other areas. The Commission were not nice guys,"
Doug held his hands up as if surrendering, "Jesus, Sadie I didn't intend to fight the civil war again! Anyway, let's get CSU down here, check his fingers for GSR. Maybe this little prick is connected to the drive-by."
The crime scene investigators arrived and began to examine the body. "Detective Andrews! This man is DJ Ignacio. He tests positive for gun shot residue and this gunshot wound to the head is only the killing shot. He's taken bullets earlier from a handgun of a different caliber."
The Detective put gloves on and examined him. "See these contusions on his rib cage? He suffered some kind of trauma. Possibly a fall."
Sanders spoke up saying, "We've got a few people on the way to the station for questioning. We had to fake it to look like an arrest so that it wouldn't look like they snitched. Let's see if any of them can identify this asshole as the shooter."
Sadie was talking to somebody on the radio. "Roger that. Ten four. Over and out. Hey Doug! Unit 23 just told me they've got a man in their car that says at least one of the drive by shooters fell out of the car. Return fire from the Aztecas. Wouldn't say who it was that may have shot the person but we can still question him at the precinct. Show him a photo of our dearly departed here."
She told the CSU people, "Make sure we get pictures of him both with and without his clothes that way we can see if they recognize him see if it's the same clothes the shooter was described as wearing.
Meanwhile...
Ernesto had been glad to leave Snapper and Guero behind as they went back to the hood. He decided to go see a movie he found himself watching The Loneliest Robot In The World. About halfway in he kept thinking Luis would enjoy this.
He thought about the fateful night he had left New Austin for nineteen years…
1994
Ernesto knew they needed some feria. They had some already but he needed more. He'd heard about some private school on the rich side of town but it cost a lot. He wanted to get Luis enrolled there. He didn't want mijo following daddy's same path.
He parked up on a bridge over looking a 99 cent store. He had a loaded 12 gauge ready and a duffel bag to take what he needed. He burst into the store where an assistant manager, a white male in his forties with gray hair and mustache and steel gray eyes, was removing the till for another cashier. The truth was, Ernesto had been working there for a few months but had lost his temper when his manager had accused him of having an attitude with a customer when he hadn't.
Sure, he was a gang banger and could make money but that wasn't the point it was the principal the bitch had disrespected him so he was entitled to a little payoff. He pointed the shotgun after racking a load and aimed at both cashiers, the younger, also Caucasian with a shaved head and blue eyes. "I want all the money in the fucking register! All of them vamanos!"
The two held their hands up, "Now just hold on a minute, son...you don't want to do this..."
He noticed a blonde in her mid twenties with a lollipop in her mouth she was scking it in a very sensual manner. He tuned and yelled, "You get over here! Where I can see you!" Just then with the young cholo distracted, the new cashier came down with a bat on the counter knocking the shotgun from his hands.
Ernesto bent over to get the weapon, determined to the fucker back with a blast to the face but he saw the assistant manager had just pulled out two Uzis from behind the counter. "Shit!"
The man began firing at Ernesto took cover running staying low as rounds flew after him as he ducked behind aisle one. He could hear the assistant manager cursing indistinctly. He yelled for the cashier to keep an eye on the door and call the cops and stay vigilant.
Ernesto spotted the woman who had been sucking the sucker as if to distract him assuming he was some horny fucker that would just rape anybody. He was offended by the insinuation so he ran towards her intent on using her as a human shield to get out of the store.
Suddenly she pepper sprayed him. He cried out falling to the floor his lips and eyes burning. "Fucking puta! You're dead!"
She yelled, "I got him he's right here!" He stood up and pointed his shotgun before she could try and attack him again, "Don't try anything else!" He backed off a few aisles down and found a water bottle he got it open one handed and squirted water in his eyes. "Ahhh! Fuck! 'I'm gonna kill you!" He shouted.
Ernesto spotted an old lady next to him who smiled then pulled out a taser. He fell to the floor twitching. Fuck! She did not stick around though and as he struggled to get up, weak in the knees, surprised that neither the cops or the store manager had demasked or shot him, he wondered why.
He stayed low as he heard more Uzi rounds being fired and wondered what the fuck the redneck maniac was shooting at now. He saw the new cashier with a bat searching aisles for Ernesto. "Asshole! He's got an accomplishment!"
Ernesto thought, I do? He came around the corner ready to blast the cashiers, the white lady or granny if they gave him anymore shit.
It was gacho to kill an old woman he knew that but he wasn't about to end up in prison for that besides the old bag would probably die soon anyway. Maybe it was just the cocaine talking.
He was still low and as he came into aisle five he was face to face with a man also squatted down. No...he looked and saw the man was standing. A midget! A midget wearing a ski mask same as he was and holding a shotgun same as he was.
Ernesto took his mask off to get a better look and the midget did the same thing. Just then the midget cold cocked him and looked very angry, then put his mask back on with gritted teeth and readied his shotgun to get back into the gunfight.
Ernesto, if he weren't so pissed himself and in danger, would have laughed his ass off. Here he was robbing a store that charged a dollar for everything more out of revenge than need for money, and here was a midget doing the same thing!
Ernesto put his mask back on and tried an aisle he wasn't sure would be occupied but it was worth a shot. He needed that damn bag back too. As he moved down the aisle he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye. He thought it was a man dressed in a panda bear suit trying to hit him with a crutch. He spun around, nobody there.
Suddenly, he saw a shadow and in the shadow was somebody holding a revolver. Fuck! The midget was back. He had another gun. He waited until the person came back around he was tired of fuckers getting the drop on him in this store.
The person came into sight gun first and he fired and he didn't notice the pistol was orange at the end of it until it was too late.. His mouth dropped open when he saw what he had done.
It was a little kid. A white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes who couldn't have been more than six. The shotgun blast had gone right through him. The kid had simply been dressed up in a cowboy costume. He had a toy pistol and a cowboy hat on. "No!"
He gasped. He racked another load realizing he was going to have to kill everybody in there. He went to where the bag was dropped but it was gone. The midget had taken it.
Ernesto spotted the clerk charging at him with a bat but he tackled him around the waist forcing him against the soda case up front where bottles of E Cola and Spunk were 99 cents, breaking it as he smashed into the glass. Ernesto fired into his chest and the blast went through him or around him and the pellets hit diet soda bottles causing a spill everywhere.
The assistant manager spotted Ernesto having just reloaded and yelled, "You son of a bitch you killed Clyde!" Ernesto fired aiming for the bastard's head. The blast hit him taking a huge chunk of his face off on first impact before the rest of the pellets blasted him in two.
Ernesto could hear crying in the managers office. It was locked. He fired at the door handle and kicked it open. Inside was a woman of some kind of Vedic middle eastern descent mixed with Caucasian. She was American but still wore a turban and she had blue green eyes. He snarled, "You're the one that told this bitch I was having an attitude with a customer when I wasn't!"
The woman in her early twenties begged "No...please!" He didn't listen. He fired sending her cashing into the desk next to the manager, Michelle.
Michelle was a fat ugly white lady in her 40's. She had a pink face and gray messy hair. She looked like a pig she had treated him like shit even when he'd tried to be cool and because she took the customers side over his even when it had been a crack head he had quit but he blamed her. If she had stuck up for her employees he would have never quit. "You killed a child..."
Ernesto growled, "Fuck you! You made me do this, bitch! Open the goddamn safe!" He pumped and put it to the back of her head. "Muervete!" She did getting the safe where they kept backup cash and he made her put it in a store bag. "The cops are on their way...you can't get away with this let's not be stupid..."
"You think I give a fuck?! You did this! It's your fault!"
He screamed as she put the money in. As she did finish she curled up in a ball. "What.,..are you gonna do to me...?"
Ernesto backed out of the doorway saying, "You? There is no more you!" He pumped again and fired. He got out of the store but he spotted the kid and decided he had to at least carry him outside. He had murdered the poor guy. "I'm so sorry...perdonome...! It was't supposed to be you...!"
As he exited he saw a squad car a single Sunbelt Policeman was drawing down on him. "Put the child and your weapon down!" Ernest begged, "I didn't mean to kill him!" The cop, a redneck with slicked back black hair and mean dark eyes said, "I don't care! Put the gun and the kid on the ground, shit bird!"
Ernesto said, "Okay...I'm putting him down just don't shoot...where's your back up?"The guy growled, "I'm first on the scene asshole! They're on the way and for killing a child you're gonna be on death row!" Ernesto kept slowly lowering the body. "I didn't mean to..."
The unsympathetic cop snarled, "Tell it to the judge! Hey! I said the gun too! Now!" Ernesto nearly had the kid on the ground he set him down and was over him. "Wait...! He's still breathing!" Ernesto was lying. The cop told him, "Get off of him! Do as I said!"
Ernesto saw in the cops eyes he was about to fire so he rolled and a shot did wing him in the left shoulder but he missed the worst of it. Ernesto pumped and fired hitting the pig in the chest. The cop was fazed by it but had a vest on. Ernesto hit him with the shotgun in the face taking his pistol from him.
The cop fell back his head cracked open. He spat bloody teeth out as well "You crack head piece a shit..."
Ernesto told him, in tears, "I'm sorry...but I have kids of my own they can't be without a father!"
He fired again this time the blast got through the vest as well as tearing the officer's neck open. It was a sickening sight seeming him opened up like that. It reminded him of when he was in school being told about what the Snipe bullet that had killed Dr King had done on impact. It was similar to what had been described in the history book, what he was seeing now.
Ernesto ran up the stairs back up to the bridge and got back in the teal Peyote. He sped off down the street as he could hear sirens coming from the east the other direction to where the store was. He slowed it down taking the mask off getting back to the hood as fast as he could.
He parked in front of the canton the lights were still on. He needed to get out of town but first he had to get a change of clothes he couldn't show up like this. He knew he would have to tell his wife what happened but it would freak out Luis, Carmen, and everybody else if he came in with blood on his clothes.
He pulled up to where Flaco's place was just up the street and banged on the back door. Flaco came out looking sleepy, wearing a bath robe, "What's up, Ernesto...? Oh shit what the fuck happened to you, ese?"
Ernesto sobbed, "I fucked up bad, man! You gotta help me! I need a car or a mini van something I gotta get Marisol and the kids out of town! Do you got any clothes?"
Flaco was awake now even if he wasn't seconds ago as shit had just got real. "Shit...okay hold on, I don't want to wake my old lady up, man. Here use the hose to get some of that blood off you and take your shirt off. I'm gonna get some clothes for you and you're gonna take a shower. Just keep quiet and we'll get you through this, all right, homes?"
Ernesto had ended up having to get out of the state because the old lady and the woman from that robbery had managed to escape even if nobody else did so the two had told the cops everything they'd seen. He had briefly traveled down to Nuevo Paradiso just in case since and they'd stayed there for about a year and then later made their way back to the United States where they ended up in Los Santos.
Marisol had been horrified by what had happened but back then had stayed with him as she knew he would never intentionally hurt a child.
He left the theater and suddenly his cell phone started to ring. It was Barry.
-Barry
As they drove to Downtown Barry couldn't help but be impressed. "Damn! Homie can spit. Aight so I take it back on one nigga but that doesn't mean the rest of the west coast niggas are about shit," Jrue was lighting up a blunt. "Hey there's always Tupac can't forget him."
Barry would't let him have that one. "Pac is from the east son. I thought you knew that? Motherfucker you can't spell west without an ES for East Side nigga!" Jrue took a puff then passed it. As he hot boxed from his first toke he replied, "Nah homie, he may be from the east but when it came down to it he repped the Best side. Even if it meant facing east coast emcees, nigga!"
Barry was puzzled, "Hey dawg you don't wanna be saying that too loud," Jrue took the bleezy back. "Man, what? I thought I was your boy thought I was down?" Barry nodded. "Yeah you right and back east you would have been the shit real talk but fools out here don't know you like that. You can call me that but you don't even wanna do that where others hear that cause people are gonna be like, 'Why you letting a chink call you a nigga, brother?"
Barry reassured, "Look with me we cool but the rest of these fools might start tripping. You gotta have more street smarts than that with everybody else, even with Chip homie you gotta earn that," Jrue held it in but then coughed as he exhaled hard which resulted in a bigger high. "Fuck...I helped jack Calico. It doesn't get more gangsta than that! That's gotta mean something...!"
Barry took a toke but then handed it back and made a gesture indicating he didn't want anymore. "Yeah but you don't wanna be admitting that though..Calico. niggas be snitching even back where I'm from. They face twenty five with an L you'd be the first one they drop a dime on. Like it or not even after months we're still outsiders. Always will be around here. Niggas will pop their chops to the pigs on a dude from out of town if it keeps them out of jail. They wouldn't be as bold about snitching on a local."
They pulled up not long after that scooping up Ernesto who got in the back. "What's up, Ernesto?" The Mexican was wearing a white wife beater and black jeans revealing all his tattoos. "Orale homes. So what's going on?" He dapped the young Asian too. "You know a good spot around here? Aint been to the club in a while."
Ernesto said, "We aint going to no clubs, muchacho. I don't dance with men. There's a place called Casa De Pisto. Over on Blackwater avenue."
About twenty minutes later the three were in the bar knocking them back. Ernesto had described it as a "Paisa" bar, whatever the fuck that meant. They were downing shots like a motherfucker. Jrue, being Mr. Brainiac, piped in, "Did you...guys know...tequila is the only alcohol that's not a depressant?"
Barry cackled, "How would you know...? You aint had no tequila before tonight, brah..."
Ernesto cleared his throat feeling the burn. "Okay... so what did you want to talk to me about, youngster?" Barry asked, "Aight...you ever heard of a motherfucker named Tom Mauser?"
Ernesto seemed to have. "I've never met him but we're around the same age. Yeah even the last time I was down here when I was as young as you I kept thinking to myself this guy's clearly making a killing in ways even Nixon would be impressed with and I always wondered why he never got busted but I did even though I know he's behind the same kind of shit? Then again I think we all know the answer. That plus he's rich and he kept his hands clean even if he wasn't. That's really what I should have been doing too. Why do you ask?"
Barry was poured another shot. "Me and Jrue we did some seriously heavy shit tonight. Almost got killed again," He leaned in so only the older man could hear. "We busted a Cottonball associate out of custody. It's a miracle we made it back here."
Ernesto got angry and grabbed Barry by the collar. "Hey what the fuck, cabron? You trying to get me involved in that kind of shit? I got enough law enforcement that would love to put me away forever or death row. If they knew my true rank I would be!"
Barry removed his hands from his jacket. "Nah nothing like that we got it covered. You need to chill the fuck out maybe you don't handle the drink so well," He looked around but the bars patrons were in their own world. Several watching a Soccer game which to them was football.
Mexico was playing Chad. "Look, they just wanted me to ask you if you'd ever be down to do some work for them is all. For the record they do know who you are."
Ernesto cursed in Spanish. A woman who was middle aged and likely older than Ernesto a woman who wore a purple bustier and jeans, and was clearly a working girl, pretty in the classy more mature woman kind of way, kinda chubby and with shorter hair maybe even 50 but still fuckable to a large percent of the population especially any desperate man she still looked better than many women her age approached the Mafioso.
"You okay, papi?" Ernesto nodded. "Si mon. Hey go check out the kid over there make sure he's all right."
Jrue was grinning like an idiot. Jrue asked, "Hey Ernesto how do you say beautiful?" Ernesto, clearly annoyed said, "Bonita!" Jrue put a hand on the Mexican working girls ass as she sat on his lap. "Girl you're chubby..." She got an angry look on her face and he hiccuped saying, "In all the right places..bonita..."
She smiled again and kissed him on his ear whispering in Spanish. "How do they know when not even the juras know?" The Mexican demanded. "They know as much on me as they do you obviously they must have done some digging except...if Sunbelt PD don't know who you really are they must have deeper connects than that. Either that or some agent is looking into your shit. Still, I'm just as screwed as you I busted out of prison."
Ernesto looked at his empty glass. "Prison in Liberty City can't be as bad as out here. Even if it's rough in there I mean at least you're not in a state full of right wingers who salivate just at the mention of capital punishment, okay?"
Barry took his shot and set it down, "Fuck that. I'd rather be executed than spend life in there. I mean maybe with who you are you can make life slightly easier get food maybe even a conjugal or two I don't know but I don't bang homie. I don't got that power. Even inside I never joined no gangs niggas knew I was down but I never joined anybody. I might have done some shit if money was offered and sure if my car gets in a riot you gotta fight but other than that I walked alone."
Ernesto was impatient. "So what did he want? Mauser?" Barry looked to see that Jrue was now full on making out with the hooker. "I don't know just wanted to know if you'd be down to work. Oh shit now I remember. He said that he owns the real estate business your ex works at. He's your ex's boss so he figured you might want to keep her from getting fired."
Ernesto's face twisted in dismay. "To hell with that puta. She may be the mother of my kids but she fucked me. Now her sugar daddy can front the bills. I'm no saint but I didn't cheat on her, you know? Not once when we were together. I may be a killer, a liar, a dealer and a bad father but I never once cheated on her. I guess technically she didn't me either but it was still a low blow. You know she used what money we had left in the house to move back here."
Barry knew soon they would have to stop the little affair with the working girl before Jrue stank of pussy which would get him in the shit with Rocky. He stood up, "So is that a no?"
The pony tailed gunmen looked back at him with red eyes."I didn't say no but if I do it I'm gonna do it to keep whatever that asshole has on me from getting to Sunbelt PD. Mauser's a gangster posing as a legitimate businessman but he's not above that kind of move. I'll hear him out see what he wants and ask how he knows about me."
They got up and Barry said, "Cool. Hey Jrue, come on, man let's bounce on outta here. Find somewhere else to chill."
He pulled the younger one away from the woman. "Aye dios mio he was cute! Was he a virgin?" She asked. Ernesto answered "Nah he's no virgin he's just thinking like one."
He handed her a hundred. "For your trouble. Maybe we'll be back sometime soon. Always nice to see you, Paula."
As they loaded into the car Jrue, being most drunk of them hiccuped, "Hey I got somewhere we can go next. There's a concert over on Elizabeta avenue at the theatre. Man guys...I would have fucked Paula...hard...you guys are a couple of cock blockers, man..."
Barry would drive as he was the least faded. "Nah dude you broke a basic rule. Never kiss a ho on the mouth," Ernesto chuckled. "She wasn't a corner girl like Rocky used to be, man. She's a call girl. Escort type of lady," Barry put the radio station flicking channels till he heard something good settling on a station playing Give It Up by Public Enemy. "How do you know?"
Ernesto laughed seeming to be reminiscing in his own drunken state. "I lost my virginity to her, homes. Don't let her age fool you she's a freak. Fifty four and still looking good!"
Barry asked Jrue, "What kind of rap is this shit, mayne? I liked Kendrick but I doubt you got tickets that quick. If it's some of that other shit you listen to you know i ain't feeling that. I'm all about this shit here, fucking, Rakim, DMX, Nas, Wu Tang and Jigga and Biggie my nigga."
Ernesto belched. "Not me. Low rider oldies is my thing.." Jrue hiccuped again. "You two...belong in the last century. You gotta get with the times.,..."
The two other men were reluctant but Jrue said, "There's bad ass bitches. Skinny, big, blonde, brunette, redhead, all thirty one flavors. Even if you guys don't like the music they'll be shaking their asses I know you'll like that."
Barry and Ernesto looked at each other. "Why not. I'm in."
-Jrue
Jrue drove his car, it was a questionable decision because Jrue had decided earlier to drink some dirty sprite, and he was also pretty blunted. Jrue was normally pretty calm and his driving reflected that even when he was considerably fucked up.
After about thirty minutes of cruising around Jrue found a spot and after a few more blunts the crew of Jrue, Ernesto, & Barry walked to the concert. They ordered the tickets at the event and walked in shortly after in the final mob of people to crowd into the outside concert space.
Esco had already started performing one of his songs from a few years back that had got people hype. Jrue could remember listening to it at a party his senior year of college.
The crowd was a mix of people. Mostly people from every hood in Sunbelt, a few college kids, a few white girls, a few thots…
The music was loud. Jrue was getting danced on by a white girl with leggings. Jrue soon lost sight of Barry and Ernesto but he knew they'd be close by. When Jrue was on purple things started to feel weird and trippy. Jrue knew he had a mission to do later but he was going to enjoy the fun while it lasted.
The rest of the concert went normally.
A fight broke out. Then more fights broke out. Barry almost got pulled into one of them, but he withdrew back into the crowd. Jrue smoked a few blunts near the stage.
A few hours later Esco left the stage and the crowd spilled out into the parking lot and into the streets. Fights got serious squads got formed. Threats were made. Shots were fired.
Jrue and the squad were already out by then.
Their mission was later. They would intersect Esco after he went to the club. They'd walk up stick them up then finesse the chain. If something went wrong they'd just have to wash off the chains. They'd clear 100k easy.
For now Jrue and the squad were just cruising around, Jrue had stopped for snacks at a gas station. Jrue was about to pick up Rocky even under the protest of Ernesto and Barry.
"We are all too fucked up. Ernesto just faced a six pack, and I just smoked a dabbed blunt with you five minutes ago!" Jrue said as he took the right that lead to Rocky's street.
"We know she's your girl but this could get hot." Barry said from the passenger.
"If she gets us jammed up it's on you kid." Ernesto said cryptically.
Jrue cruised up in front of Rocky's house. He had been texting and driving so she already knew he was outside. She ran outside and Jrue ran outside. He hugged her and said something quick and low to her. She hopped in the front seat, Barry got into the back left, Jrue got into the passenger.
They whipped off the curb and towards the strip club Esco was to be attending. Rocky knew a girl who worked there so she called her up and told her to keep her updated whenever she saw Esco move.
It had been a dead silent thirty minutes of waiting and short calls and general boredom. Ernesto was currently on a small conversation with his daughter.
Jrue was about to intrude and tell the old wolf to focus, but Jrue also like staying alive so he kept shut.
Jrue went through his phone and played "Hot shit" from Chief Keefs new mixtape through the aux. Esco had released a mixtape around the same time as Chief Keef's so rumors of beef had spread. Ernesto didn't look to be enjoying it as much as Rocky and Barry. Jrue lit another blunt and the crew waited.
Around 1:15am Rocky's contact called and Esco had just gotten up and him and his squad looked like they were almost ready to go. The lick car was around the street, so Rocky pulled off and circled the block one time and parked in the parking lot adjacent to the one Esco and his entourage's dog pile of expensive trucks and cars.
Rappers now-a-days always keep straps in their car and the squad knew that they had to get him before they got there.
The space between the club door and the car door would be where the crew would make their money.
The robbers put their mask on and as soon as the inside contact called a second time the crew got their guns cocked. Jrue had an AK. Nobody was carrying light in this run. Rocky stayed in the car so she could be ready for a getaway, but she was still strapped with a Mac.
Jrue ran out with the squad and as they got close to the entourage Barry shot his sawed off in the air and pointed it at the dreaded rapper who Ernesto presumed was Esco.
"Hold the fuck up and nobody gets fucked up!" Ernesto said being the first to run up to Esco and pull his chain over his neck so fast Esco didn't notice it for a few seconds. When he did however he reached for his waistline. Ernesto hit the drill rapper in the face with the butt of his shotgun. One of Esco's goons who was posted behind some other goons started reaching in his black windbreaker.
Jrue didn't hesitate to pull his trigger slaughter about two and a half of Esco's niggas. That spread the crowd and goons, clubbers, and girls began to flee for their lives.
Ernesto had about four chains hanging out of his pocket and Barry was going through some expired bangers pockets. Jrue had collected three chains and a watch already. One of the chains was heavy gold; the others were shiny silver Cuban links.
Some of Esco's other niggas came out the club with straps so on instinct Jrue pulled the trigger on one of them who had one a chain and a white tee with some jeans and timbs. The other one who had no chain but a nice looking watch, whatta douche.
Jrue sprayed the douche with the AK in the torso and the douche almost did a backflip as he fell back to a cold bloody airless death. The last song he'd hear was "Throw Dem Racks" by Juicy J from his new mixtape Blue Dream and Lean. It was the douches favorite rapper and he had tickets in his pockets to his concert in a few weeks outta town. Jrue got those and took his fuck boy wrist candy.
The now already expired white T doughboy let his chain go in peace. He had a few bands in his pockets. Jrue took them too.
Jrue downed a few more of Esco's boys, his squad picked off a couple more and their loot doubled. With all the action played out the crowd began to thin out. That was their que to take their heavy pockets home. The three jumped in the car and Rocky darted out of the parking lot.
They passed at least twelve squad cars and four ambulances before they collected their loot at Rocky's place. After some market research Rocky set the score at $120,000 in Chains, watches, glasses, etc. Barry even took somebody's Godzys were designed by some douche ass rapper who called himself God.
"Okay so let's break down the background of this chapter. The robbery with Ernesto was based on the music video Thinking Twice by Lil Rob in which he tries to rob a store but gets tazed by an old lady maced by a young one, cold cocked by a midget who looks kind of like the one on Jack Ass and he thinks a panda bear costume was coming to hit him with a crutch but after having already been attacked does accidentally shoot a little boy thinking it was another patron trying to foil his robbery. As for Guero he's based on the actor Noel G who plays many stereotypical cholo roles. Much like Lefty in Ballad Of A Cholo, who would be voice and inspired by the same actor, Flaco his Sunbelt counter part had been running the set until Guero was released and both Flaco as a supporting character as well as Ernesto have a problem with Guero's leadership down the line."
Native Guns
"Hey so that's me yall hope you liked it. The bit with Jrue nearly getting it on with that call girl was based o this movie I seen that takes place in South Central called Harsh Times and i talked with guns on it about having Ernesto having lost his virginity long ago to her. The Nordic Circle is based on the Texas prison gang Aryan circle and as for the Kendrick Lamar shit I had Jrue have Barry listen to that cause of Barry being anti west coast much like his real life basis DMX is. The part where Barry was thinking you aint JFK is based on a Chris Rock comedy skit where he was saying Malcolm X and Dr King were assassinated but about Biggie and Pac "Those niggas got shot!" Oh and as for Perry saying Freedom Fries that's based on how many rednecks early in the war started hating on France for not wanting to be involved and started calling them French Fries, Freedom Fries. So that's all 4 now peace! And happy MLK day everyone Afro Spirit"
It was around MLK holiday when Afro submitted his draft so it took us a while to get this updated as you can see. Sorry for the late update we've all been busy any typods I'll have Guns comeback and fix.