Miss me? I haven't been gone that long so of course not lol. In any case, let's get the next chapter rolling on. Oh disregard the LS Dukes as a parody for the Dodgers. I see now that the Corkers were already a parody for that. Even still, I'm gonna have Mara Bunta and Vagos wear that on occasion maybe also Aztecas too since all three of their real life version do wear the L.A. Dodgers same as crips do but have done it long before the crips did. The original crips wore leather jackets not pendletons and sports hats.

In any case since it is possible for die hard to get a sports team hat of any color I will have it be that the Corkers could maybe be green like they are now but reference them in the past having worn blue and like the Dodgers, with Surenos vs Crips maybe I can have a similar stupid beef like that having one gang say the logo is theirs and their enemy says the same.

I'm honestly asking you readers this. Do you think Corkers should have like blue for away games and green for home games or something so having two colors blue and green like the Seattle Seahawks or should blue just be a past color for the Corkers?

Anyways...onto the story.

Hold Yourself Together

Franklin got his green Salamander jersey on as well as some baggy jeans. He had his Feuds hat on backwards. He loaded up his M4 Carbine into the Buffalo as well as his AA-12. He had a vest that he had bought recently from that Ammu Nation by the hood. Before long he was in the car driving down the hill. He gave Lester a buzz. "Yo Les! No time to talk, bro. A friend of mine, Hao got snatched up by some Vagos. Can you do that trackify thing for me again?"

Lester sighed, "You're going to have to learn to do this on your own but fine. Just give me a second," He could hear the overweight man typing. "Hao of South Los Santos...works at L.S. Customs. Got him. He's at an apartment about a block west of where we met up to do those stock jobs. Definitely the seedier side of Vespucci Beach. Be careful. That was a Vagos neighborhood and has been a while but there's a lot of Mara Bunta Grande there too."

He was grateful. "Hey good looking out, dog! Lester, I'll call you soon, aight? We gotta talk about where we at as far as what we made on the paper from our last job."

Franklin called Lamar and asked, "Hey, man where you at? I'm coming to scoop you up. I found where they got our boys. We're creeping on some niggas in Vespucci Beach,"

Lamar said, "You know where I'm at, fool! I'm in Strawberry! Come scoop me up in front of my house," Franklin hung up and began to head south. He put the radio to West Coast Classics and the song I Don't Like To Dream About Getting Paid by DPG played. As he drove south, he illegally passed a shit load of people which would be reckless driving if there was a cop nearby. Thankfully there was none. Just then the song cut and it was a news bulletin.

"Violence shattered a South Los Santos community yesterday as dozens of members of the Aztecas were killed in brutal gang violence. The alarming thing is that it was said to be a lone gunman and police believe the rival gang the Mara Bunta Grande, a notorious El Salvadoran gang to be responsible. The shooting took place in the urban cul-de-sac of 106th street in Strawberry. Among those slain was the underground rapper known as Big Matone. Big Matone arrived in the rap game in 2004 but left Chicano rap and went solo in 2008 and retired in 2009 only to make a comeback in 2012. It was believed he was making his next album before he was slain."

Franklin raised his eyebrows. "Shit...that's a shame," He said aloud. "Fool had more bars than MC Clip,"

He finally pulled up about twenty minutes later. Lamar hopped in and said, "About time, motherfucker what kept you?" Franklin shrugged off the remark as they sped up the street. "Man you know how traffic is in this town. Even breaking every traffic law in the book I couldn't get here fast enough."

Lamar protested, "Hey slow down, Frank! I don't even have my seat belt on yet! You trying to kill me?" Franklin scoffed. "Since when do you care about the law? Anyway, you know I bet you anything these are the dudes that killed Simeon. Bet you anything. They probably want revenge for that Jimenez guy I killed."

Lamar was annoyed he brought it up. "Would you let that go already? Damn! I swear you always bringing that up like it's anything I can do about it. You're the one that killed him anyway!"

Franklin headed north west. "Yeah, that maybe true but I wouldn't have had to if your dumb ass wouldn't have started shooting. Yeah, like you said I did kill more people that day but you started shooting. If you had just fought fist to fist with them Ese's we might have been able to take em. Maybe. Maybe we would have got lucky and knocked them out, locked them in that garage, found the bagger and bailed and none of them would have had to be in the know!"

Lamar rolled his eyes. "There you go. Playing the blame game. We did what the fuck we had to do and besides it was like 3 or four of them against only two of us. How is that fair? They never fight fair. Always wanna bum rush a nigga!"

Franklin just got past a yellow before it turned red. "Nigga, all gangs do that shit. You saying you can't handle that? I take two you could have taken two. We're Forum Drive, remember? We aint as big as CGF or Carson but we don't take shit. We've faced worse than four on two just going to Davis High! Don't you remember how we couldn't ever walk home alone without the Ballas trying to jump us? That's why the fuck I got down with CGF, anyway."

Lamar sighed. "Look, bro, I didn't think just by booking a few Vagos, we'd be starting World War III. I mean we murked maybe ten of them plus the one dude? They get worse than that going against the Aztecas! I mean why is this motherfucker so popular that now everybody wants to take a crack at the niggas that killed him?"

Franklin thought about that. "He was our age, dog. Even if he didn't have OG status he still had a lot of time to build up to OG status. While we was growing up in Strawberry but going to Davis High, he was probably at Vespucci High learning to shoot at the Ballas that live around there. You know how it aint no more Families on Grove Street no more?"

Lamar interrupted, "And we gonna do something about that," Franklin took his turn back saying, "Well there used to be a set of Ballas out there they were deep as fuck in the late 90's so much they got respect from sets in South Central but the Vespucci Beach Vagos killed most of them. If any is left alive they're probably either in the pen or not even representing the purple anymore."

Lamar shrugged. "So they killed all the Ballas now we go and kill then rest of them. What's the problem? You know last time I went down to Vespucci I was peeping it out and I didn't see too many Vagos down there after the rest of them bitched up after we gave them the business? Cause all I saw down there was a bunch of Salvadorans. They told me to get to stepping and they was hating and I would have done something except I left my gat in my ride and there was like five of them."

Franklin turned to him briefly with narrowed eyes as they drove through the Textile District. "Were you all decked out in green?" Lamar denied it. "No. I wasn't wearing colors that day. But you know how they be. Didn't matter if I was banging or not. It's a good thing for me I wasn't wearing colors. Then again it's good for them I aint have my burner cause I would have popped them with the quickness."

Franklin told him, "Yeah we know nigga. You're down for the hood. You rep that green gang but the problem is you don't know when to stop. Nobody's doubting that you real but a lot of people doubt you got any brains. You sure as hell aint book smart so all that leaves is for you to be street smart except you aint that either. It aint just the Vagos we gotta watch out for now. It's the Ballas too. You forget we was supposed to be peacing it in the hood with them till you had to kidnap D."

Lamar said, "Hey, we could have still made that paper off that nigga! Sure, he may have recognized me but I could have cut his tongue out. All you would have to do was wait till after we made that call to get our 40 g's to toss my phone out. You could have at least let me switch the sim card and shit! The feds wouldn't have needed to know about nothing."

They were about halfway there. "Look, dog, either way, we started a beef with the OCB. All because of you. We could have jacked some rich guy from the Hills but instead you wanted to kidnap a dude who was well known. Come to think about it, Lamar, I'm not too sure if Stretch betrayed us or if we betrayed him and CGF. Sure, the OG's weren't being leaders for us like they were supposed to and yeah Stretch was a snake who tried to get us murked but what was he supposed to do? He was OG. We broke a truce. What would have costed more lives? The lives of two guys for insubordination or the hundreds of lives we're going to lose now that the beef is back with the purple rags?"

Lamar looked at him like he was crazy. "The fuck is you talking about? It was you who wanted to kill him in the first place! Bitch tried to have me killed when I thought it was some come up shit and even still I said it aint no thing. I just wouldn't have let him get the drop on me again. Either way it was always you and me not you and him or me and him. We're Forum Gangsters, fool. Supposed to be watching each other's backs. Even if I wasn't with killing Stretch at first, I knew that the OG's were being janky with us."

Franklin rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that if you got a truce right and you the OG, and two niggas from your hood go and violate that truce what the fuck are you expected to do? If you want the truce to hold you're supposed to make examples out of the guys who kept the shit going on and on. Only the funny thing is, we didn't blast Ballers for the reason most Family niggas would if they weren't with the peace. We did it for some money. Always about the motherfucking money. So even if Stretch did make like he was the homie, in a way, we did start all that bullshit with OCB. What did you expect? Stretch may have been a punk but he was also looking at the bigger picture."

Lamar scoffed. "So what? Just cause we violated rules and conditions of the truce we're supposed to have just let Stretch kill us or the Ballas he was in with? Fuck that. We wouldn't have even been making moves on our own for Forum if the OG's had looked after us as their homies like they're meant to. So what if we were in the wrong? It's his fault for always leaving us to dry when we were hurting for paper! Besides, Stretch killed just as many Ballas at the recycle plant as we did so why does he get a pass?"

Franklin shrugged. "I guess he was more with the peace than we were. Besides, like I said about him capping D, that was survival and every Baller he killed there was a survival thing but that shit wouldn't have gone down like that if it wasn't for us trying to kidnap a Baller OG in the first place. That's what I'm trying to tell your dumb ass."

Lamar loaded up his own Uzi and scowled, "Whatever you say, CEO. You don't know what it is in the hood anymore. You been away for too long," They pulled up to the neighborhood where it was going down.

Inside, the Vagos from Vespucci Beach as well as the local Mara Bunta thugs all had Leroy and Hao at their mercy. Even if neither would admit it at all. A member of the Mara Bunta punched Hao in his already bloodied and bruised up face. This guy was a hardcore member from El Salvador. "We know...you're homeboys with the guy that killed Esteban. We have ears to the streets. Tell us what you know and we'll let you live. Fuck around and we cut your chorra off."

The member had a shaved head and his entire torso was covered on both sides with gang tattoos. He had his face tattooed as well and one big one that stood out was a dark blue tat across the forehead that said Curb Side Locos.

A lot of the Mara Bunta who had moved into Vespucci Beach after Esteban's death were from East Los or even some hood around South Los Santos. Two members of the Vespucci 13 Vagos gang were beating up on Leroy. "We know you're friends with at least one of the fuckers that shot our hood up. Just so happens the two that shot our hood up were there at the same time."

One of the Vagos who was beating Leroy had a yellow and black jersey on. "Fuck you, Bar Ho, bitch. The homies from Chamberlain are going to come back on your ass with the swiftness. I aint scared of you. If you gonna do something do it. Besides how would you know who was there?"

The other Vago, who was wearing a black checkered shirt over a yellow T shirt plus a light blue bandanna tied around his forehead told him, "We were there, pinche mamon. We were just driving to go get some bud by the Pier and we saw two suspicious looking mayates walking through. I didn't think nothing of it or else I would have killed them then and there but I figured if they really were dumb enough to wear green around here, the homeboys would check them."

Leroy laughed. "Guess you were wrong about that, motherfucker...I saw that on the TV they booked a shit load of you Tacos. They may not be repping like that no more but I'm proud of those niggas...put you motherfuckers in your place..."

The Vago in the bandanna kicked him in the rib cage almost causing the chair to fall over. "So which one of them is your boyfriend? The tall one or the fat one?" Meanwhile, the Mara Bunta worked on Hao. A female member, with brown hair with a few blonde streaks, tattoos of a rose on her left forearm and the name of a deceased boyfriend, who wore a blue midriff top and white khakis, punched Hao. "You'd better talk, cabron or we're going to cut you up and feed you to the dog."

She beckoned to a pit bull that was barking like crazy at the door. Hao grinned through bloody teeth, "Maybe that's how you guys get down around here but where I'm from we don't rat on our own homies," The female MBG member took a cigarette from a male members mouth and put it out on the side of his face. Hao screamed in agony as she did. With that she hit him with a right cross to the face.

She turned to a younger member, a teen gangster of about twelve or so, "Hey, this bitch is too loud turn the music up louder, eh!" The twelve year old turned the stereo up and the song Hypothermia by Lil Minor played to drown out the screams.

The tatted up thug grabbed Hao by the face. He shouted at him, "You'd better start talking, bitch! Or I'm really going to cut your dick off," Hao spat blood into his face. "Go to hell, amigo. I aint telling you a goddamn thing,"

The MBG member revealed his machete, "Watch your mouth, ese. This is our neighborhood. You and your mayate are just guests. Now if you don't tell me who these two are and where they live I'm going to chop your little ass into sushi, comprende?"

Hao laughed at that. "Suck me beaner. I'm Chinese. Sushi is a Japanese food. We don't eat that shit!" The MBG nodded to his fellow gang members and they untied him just enough to present his arm. The MBG thug grinned, "Guacha,. Sushi," With a swift slicing motion, he cut off the very tip of Hao's left elbow, and blood gushed from it as the chunk of flesh as well as possibly a piece of the funny bone came off.

Hao's eyes squeezed shut as he screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice gave out. He was saying something none of them could understand. It was pretty much just gibberish. "My fucking elbow..." He finally managed to cry out between gasps, practically hyperventilating. "You fuck..."

Meanwhile, the Vagos had forced Leroy on his feet at gunpoint and made him take his shirt off. He had a huge CGF tattoo across his back. One of the two Vagos who had survived the shootout over the bagger, the guy in the yellow looked at it and shook his head. "Chale I don't like it. That shit's gotta come off."

The other gang banger smacked Leroy in the back of the head. "So what's it going to be, puto? Knife or fire?" Leroy growled, "You do what you want you punk bitch. Whatever happens to me you're gonna get it much worse. Believe that,"

The dog was barking still and one member of the Vagos, a bald man yelled, "Hey could somebody shut that mutt up, bro?" A Mexican with a relatively short haircut and a mustache stood up. He was wearing a white wife beater and blue jeans plus a crucifix necklace. He also had a tattoo of the cross on the right arm. "That's my dog, bro. Something must be wrong."

He got his pistol ready as did a couple other Vagos. The two thugs in the back were joined by two more Vespucci 13 thugs trying to hold down Leroy. The thug with the blue bandanna held a blow torch in hand. "Fire it is, motherfucker! You want to be flamed up? Now you will be."

He took the blowtorch to the man's back and Leroy screamed even louder than Hao had. Hao was on the floor in tears and the female Mara Bunta member had given him a dirty sweater to wrap it up in and told him, "Shut the fuck up. You want to lose the other elbow, maricon? You better start talking."

Franklin and Lamar were meeting fierce resistance in the Vagos hood. On sight some boys in yellow, blue and black started blasting. Franklin, luckily had a vest but was not sure how much this one would hold out. He took cover behind the car he had arrived in, trying to make his way to the same parking lot where all that shit with the Vagos had gone down before.

A female Vago with her hair dyed red, wearing a yellowish green checkered shirt with the top button only buttoned, over a black shirt and she had on gray khakis, fired at Franklin. He fired, hitting her with the AA-12 shotgun. He hit her in the midsection blowing away one of her tattoos. She fell down with a cry. A male Vago, with no shirt fired rapidly at Franklin and Lamar. "Oye, chicos! These are the two chanates from before! Get them!"

He hit Franklin with three rounds in the chest. He realized the Family banger was wearing a vest. Franklin saw in his eyes the realization so he aimed higher but Frank fired hitting him in the left leg practically blowing it in two as the round hit the poor bastard in the knee. The guy fell going into shock so Franklin fired again hitting him in the chest.

Lamar fired his Uzi wildly not even bothering to aim and hit two members of the Vagos from a distance but did not kill them. A few members of Mara Bunta came out, armed with heavier weapons. A bald man with a dark blue bandanna, a white sleeveless T shirt and tan khakis came out yelling, "Que paso?" He fired when he saw Franklin. Franklin took cover behind a parked teal Bobcat as the man fired an AK-47.

Franklin got his M4 ready while Lamar covered. Lamar took one round in the side of the arm but luckily it was just graze wound. Another round hit the glass near where Lamar was taking cover and a few shards hit him cutting his neck. It was bleeding but it was not a serious wound from what Frank could tell.

"Ah shit! Bitches almost got me, dog! I'm still in it though, watch me pop these motherfuckers, boy!" Franklin hollered back, "Man quit talking shit and focus on popping these Vagos, nigga! They're trying to make mince meat out of both of us before we even get there!"

One of the MBG gangsters said, "Shit, the big one is the guy Sol called, vato! You're supposed to be waiting by the phone, asshole!" He had two pistols and fired releasing a fury of 9mm rounds at Lamar Davis. Lamar took a round in the right shoulder but fired the remaining magazine.

He let off twenty rounds at one of the Vagos he had already wounded. "No habla espanol, motherfucker! No pressing two option either!" He killed that guy and reloaded and Franklin came out taking out one of the last few Vagos out front with six rounds from the M4, downing a young man of about seventeen or eighteen with a head shot.

They moved in closer and the MBG goons kept firing on them."No three for Swahili either, bitch!" Yelled the guy with the AK-47. "Family Killer, motherfucker!" Franklin fired, aiming for the man's head but got him in the neck instead just above where his collar would be. The guy discharged a few rounds as he dropped the weapon but he went down. Another MBG thug fired, hitting Franklin with rounds in the back as they had come from across the street.

Franklin cried out, "Ah!" Lamar sprayed the Uzi behind them and at least one of the men fell from being hit by rounds. Franklin checked his phone and said, "Come on, dog! The homies are in these apartments!" An MBG thug with a Micro SMG fired hitting Franklin in the chest as he retreated back to the apartments yelling, "You don't bring us our money? We kill your friends!"

Franklin rushed forward, ignoring the blunt force pain of the ammo being caught by the vest. He fired hitting the man in the back, a guy with a long ponytail wearing black jeans, a white bandanna around the neck and a light blue on in the back of his jeans hanging from his pocket. The man collapsed in the drive way but rolled around firing but luckily Frank was not exactly where he fired so the rounds hit the roof of the parking garage.

Franklin fired putting a round between his eyes. "Onto the next one! What else you got, bitches?!"

They came to the door leading into the apartment building. "Lamar, this way, fool!" He cleared out a few more MBG gangsters and reloaded. Lamar had to do the same. A couple of Vagos came down the stairs and saw them but before they could fire, Franklin fired at the first man's legs and he fell crumpling down the stairs. He fired and hit the other man in the stomach. The guy cried out and fell face down rolling down the steps too, coughing up blood as he hit the bottom.

Lamar fired five rounds into his back from the middle of the spine all the way up to the back of the neck. "Yeah! Forum Gangsters, boy!" Franklin carefully followed the signal and said in a hushed whisper, "Shut up you idiot! You want to let them know where we're really from? Besides that fool don't count you were just finishing my sloppy seconds."

Lamar scoffed. "Fool you tripping! I was just finishing what your black ass couldn't!" They finally got to the apartment where the two were being held. Franklin fired four rounds at the door knob and kicked it open. A cholo with a shaved head fired a shotgun forcing him back. A few pellets hit him in the arm. Franklin stumbled back falling on his ass just outside the door way. Lamar lit the guy up firing rounds from his sternum up to the chin.

The man went down, blood leaking from a piece of bloodied ripped flesh hanging from the ghastly bullet wound. A female MBG member fired a Mac-11 hitting Lamar in the left leg and his hip on the same side. She was going to empty the rest into him but Franklin fired his pistol from the floor hitting her with six rounds in the side two of which hit her in the right lung. She fell over gasping and Lamar grunted in pain and fired his weapon into her face. "Bitch!"

Just then, a dog came charging at them a pit bull with a blue bandanna around the neck. He bit Franklin on the right ankle. Franklin kicked the dog but it kept chomping on him. A Mexican in a wife beater yelled, "Get him, Chuco! You know you like dark meat!" Franklin cried out kicking the dog and Lamar put the Uzi up to its face but Frank yelled, "What the fuck are you doing? We aint killing no animals, dog! What if that was Chop?"

Instead, Frank tazed the dog and it yelped but did not die however it was unconscious. The Mexican dude was a guy Franklin could have sworn he'd seen before. He'd seen him getting tattoos at the Pit in Vespucci Beach but he had not known he was gang affiliated. Franklin got up, firing the pistol as he had dropped his Assault Rifle. He fired four rounds and hit the guy in the right side of the chest, the right arm, the right side and one round went through the guy's shoulder. He collapsed falling over the couch and faced the floor.

Franklin spotted Hao over by a trio of Mara Bunta gang members. Two men and one female. He switched to the AA-12 and fired, hitting one of the men, a guy with shaggy hair and a mustache, wearing an aqua blue t shirt and stone washed jeans. He blew the guy's head into smithereens, looking like a brain surgery gone as wrong as it could go. Franklin fired the rapid shotgun hitting the female MBG member, a pretty woman who had been beating Hao.

He hit her with a round in the chest, blowing one of her breasts to mush and the round exited her back in the shoulder blade. Another round hit her in the back as she went down. The third MBG member had an MP5 and fired at them, hitting Franklin in the torso. The young banger went down and fell to the floor. "Famila jotos don't belong here! Should have never fucked with us in the first place!"

He fired at Franklin's head but he moved however Franklin did feel a sharp burning pain in his left side of his face. His ear was ringing worse than it ever had. Fuck...am I hit...?

He touched the side of his face and felt the dampness of his own blood. "Shit..." Lamar spotted the Vagos that had been tormenting Hao. He made short work of all but two of them. "Oh shit, I know those two dudes! They were the ones that left the parking lot just before we repossessed that bike for Simeon, nigga!" One of the Vagos was firing a Desert Eagle from cover. "Fuck you Tranny's! Get out of my house!"

Lamar untied Hao and spotted his chopped off elbow. "Oh god DAMN man they fucked you up, dog! Just hang on, bro we'll get you some help," Hao looked to Franklin still wining from his own pain but said, "Frank...your ear is shot off..."

Franklin noticed a piece of it had been hot off. Not all of it but still enough that it was noticeable and definitely a problem. Lamar got to Leroy who was laying on his side and he saw that a good portion if not the majority of the skin on his back had been burned off. "Those motherfuckers...they burned my ink, L..."

Lamar helped him to his feet. Franklin cursed at having lost his ear. Hao got what he could of the piece of his elbow that had been severed. The Mara Bunta thug who had done it was in cover along with the two Vagos whom Lamar had recognized and who had tortured Leroy with the blow torch. "Frank! We gotta get Leroy to the ER, dog he's more fucked up than both of ya'll!"

Just then, one of the Vagos, a female in a brown blouse, yellow shoes, backs jeans and a blue bandanna, came out shooting a Glock 18 letting automatic rounds fly. At least one of them hit Lamar in the hand as he was firing back with his own weapon. Lamar then began screeching in pain when he saw the damage done. "OHHHH SHIIIIT!" He screamed, his mouth wide open and his eyes wide looking at what she had done. "THE BITCH SHOT OFF TWO OF MY FINGERS!"

Hao pointed and said, "Your thumb too," Lamar checked. He was right. The rounds had taken his thumb, his index and middle finger on his right hand, having shot them off. Luckily they were still intact despite being severed.

Franklin fired at the female gang member and hit her with rounds in the head, the M4 rounds coating her dark hair red with her own blood and brain matter. He hadn't just done it to kill her because she was trying to kill them but for Lamar and for all of them. Hao and Leroy too.

Franklin took the piece of his ear while Hao took the piece of his elbow he could salvage. Lamar got his fingers while letting Leroy throw his arms over his shoulder. They piled into the car and Franklin got it started as now more gang members were coming up the street and firing at the car peppering it with rounds.

Franklin backed the car in reverse and the MBG thug who had chopped his elbow was spraying MP5 rounds at the back destroying the tail light of the Buffalo and the back windshield. The guy tried to charge at them to shoot Frank in the back of the head but Frank jerked the car into the opposite direction and ran the guy over before he could.

The guy flew back about seven feet and was not dead or even badly wounded but i was enough to buy some time. Before long, the Mara Bunta had a carload of their soldiers in an SUV on them. Franklin returned fire with his pistol, wounding one in the backseat and Lamar also fired with his good hand. He fired and hit the driver, Lamar's rounds hitting the guy in the face blowing his right eye out.

While the MBG thugs scrambled to get the dead driver out of the car so they could give chase, Franklin pulled over because Hao demanded he should. "I'm driving, dog. You switch places with me."

Franklin questioned it. "Why? I can drive, nigga. You know I beat your ass in that race!" Hao grunted, "Now isn't the time to brag, man. You can drive but you can also shoot. I aint a gunmen. I'll get us out of here and you make sure nobody follows us."

Frank agreed and Hao, despite his wound, which he wrapped up in a green bandanna and made a tourniquet with a pen, sped up the street trying to get them all out of Vespucci Beach. Franklin fired as the MBG SUV had managed to get the dead driver out and actually were trying to use windshield wipers to get some of the blood out of the way.

He fired at one of the passengers he had already wounded and nailed the guy with five rounds in the chest. "Fucking marks don't you ever quit?" He fired and hit the new river in the head making the vehicle flip over and crash.

Another carload, however was coming with four Mara Bunta goons packed into a Manana. Franklin reloaded and fired more rounds, aiming at the driver but the El Salvadoran swerved teh car and they hit the windshield but none of the members. They fired on the car and a round hit Franklin in the left shoulder. Then another one hit him near hi right armpit. "Goddamn it, Hao get us out of here!"

Hao shouted back to the black man, "Bitch I'm trying to get us out of here how about you focus on killing the maniacs trying to kill us?! Franklin fired eight more roughs and hit one of the men in the back putting a bullet right in the man's forehead just below the blue bandanna. He fired again and hit a gang member, a female riding up front. Two rounds hit her in the neck while a third hit her in the belly. He emptied the last few into the driver. Finally the coast was clear but there were sirens and the pigs would be on their way soon.

Leroy spoke up, "Hey...I appreciate this guys..." He didn't sound too good. The Chamberlain Hills Family gang member was looking paler than usual. "For the record yall...I know a lot of the big dogs...hated on you two doing your own thing but I'm cool with it. Do you, niggas. That's what's up...if I pull through, I'll always speak up for Forum Gangsters, Fam."

Franklin told him, "Thanks, man. It's good to hear that but don't talk if, nigga you are gonna be all right! Yo u better be. Lamar got me up out of bed for this," Hao held a hand up and said, "I'm okay too in case anybody wondered."

Lamar sneered saying, "Man don't nobody give a fuck, this is Family moment, nigga."

Franklin contradicted what his best friend had just said. "Don't listen to him, Hao. It was when I heard you were both snatched up that I came. No offense to you, Leroy, you my dog I just figured for one guy especially you, Lamar could handle it..."

Leroy sounded like shit. "What...what's that supposed to mean...FC? I aint worth coming and getting on my own, blood? That's how it is now? You know I was never janky to ya'll two like Gerald or Stretch...both them shady ass niggas. Giving Families a bad name."

Franklin told him, "Nah it aint like that, dog. It's just I remember the first time they kidnapped you. Well the Ballas did. L just had some fool come and book all the and get you back to the hood safe and sound. I figured he could have done that now too."

Lamar said "Yeah but I aint seen that motherfucker in a while. That fool was cool with the Families for a while me and Gerald hooked him up with a lot of jobs got him some paper but then he up and started beefing with the green. Money will make you do some funny shit."

Gao pulled over briefly at a 24/7. Lamar shouted, "The fuck is you doing, bitch? We need to getting to Mount Zonah not buying Slurshees!" Hao said, "Look my dad is a doctor. If we get the cut off body parts in ice we can save them. I'll be right back, okay. I'm gonna go get us some ice and be right back and then we can get there."

As the Asian went into the store, Leroy chuckled a bit trying to have a sense of humor and stay calm. "I guess...that leaves me out, fellas. Aint much of me left to save. Those bar ho's did a number on me,"

Franklin noticed that the shirtless gangster's chest was also bleeding. The local Vagos had taken a pocket knife and carved a message into the OG's chest. It read, Property of Vagos 13. The ultimate sign of disrespect t a rival gang member.

Hao returned with a large fountain drink full of ice for Lamar's fingers and thumb, and a bag of ice with a couple more cups for Frank's ear piece and his own piece of elbow. Franklin had climbed into the driver seat as they were in that much of a hurry. Franklin floored it and called 911. "Hey, look we're on our way to the Mount Zonah, R. We got serious wounds. I've had part of my ear shot off, I got one friend who's been injured by a blow torch, another who had an accident with some fingers and a friend who had part of is elbow chopped. Make sure and have a doctor there for us."

They asked him how it happened, four different, off injuries. "Man fuck your questions just have some stretchers ready for us. If any of my boys die it's on you an if I can't get my ear reattached I'll sue ya'll asses into the poor house, dog!"

As they drove, Leroy asked, "Yo Frank...remember when that bald dude knocked me out in front of your Auntie's crib? Why you aint do shit, dog?"

Franklin lied, "I did, bro. I threw some hits with him and told him don't be coming around no more if he can't respect the homies in our home turf. Chased that fool all the way out to Blaine County too just to make sure," Leroy chuckled softly. "Damn homie...good looking out dog. I appreciate that. If it means anything at all man like I said, Forum Drive is all right. I'll let the homies know... they either gonna feel it or not but I aint gonna lie. You some solid individuals..."

Lamar, though he knew Frank was lying, backed it up. "Yeah, the homie FC is crazy, Gangster! Chasing that yahoo all the way back to bum fuck nowhere. Hey we're almost there, okay?" Leroy shivered but said, "Hey, L. You had that quiet dude save me before from the Ball Sacks...and you and the boy Frank came through again. That's twice I owe ya'll.. On the real...thank you..."

They got to the hospital and before long they were all on gurneys. Hao was the only one still siting up. Lamar, being a dumb ass like he was, though he had put the fingers and thumb in ice, he had not kept pressure on the wounds as much as he should have so he was woozy from blood loss.

The male nurse, a suave Caucasian male with blondish brown hair looked down at Franklin. "Your friend with the burn has the worst of it," They were putting a clean soft white sheet to cover Leroy's back. "What's with the sheet? He's gonna be okay, isn't he?"

The nurse shrugged. "I wish I could make you a promise but I can't. He needs that sheet because without skin his body temperature has dropped a lot plus skin keeps infections at bay. Since he lost the majority of the skin on his back, he could have infections. We'll do what we can for him. By the way as for you and your friend with the fingers, we appreciate you putting them in ice but next time be sure and put them in a cloth or something else top wrap it in so that the severed body part doesn't directly touch the ice."

Franklin was curious as the man rolled him down the hall. "Why not?" The nurse told him, "Well, while it is important to keep it on ice to preserve it you don't want direct contact with the ice. It can damage the nerves that are still there and even cause frost bite. Makes it that much less likely that we can reattach it."

Franklin wondered to himself, Shit, am I gonna lose part of my ear? I gotta walk around and bee the guy with a deformed ear? Plus Lamar being seven fingered and Hao having no elbow...and Leroy...goddamn I hope h's gonna be okay. We aint kicked it in a while but I always liked that guy.

Meanwhile...

Joker was interrogating a member of Mara Bunta named El Sol from Central America. The puercos were all over Vespucci Beach so everybody was laying low inside. Since Joker was in the hood, if he didn't want to draw attention to himself he would have to stay in the hood another two to three hours indoors before the cops left.

Joker said, "So let me get this straight, pendejo...you kidnapped the chino from Los Santos Customs brought him here and the Vagos got the CGF guy, right? What I don't understand is how you vatos call this your neighborhood and you let two black guys just march in like they own the place and start shooting everybody in sight. Better yet how did you let those fuckers and the two hostages get out of here?"

Sol replied, "No fue mi culpa, ese. Esos tipos estaban armados hasta los dientes y que sólo se coló en nosotros,"

(It wasn't my fault, ese. Those guys were armed to the teeth and they just snuck up on us.)

Armando's wavy hair was extra messy today and he had been snorting coke earlier so he looked extra crazy. "¿Quiere decir que dos chicos se dirigieron de pañales en verde fueron capaces de sorprender a usted? Esta es tu barrio! Incluso antes de Mara Bunta estableció aquí Vespucci alta ha sido el cincuenta por ciento raza."

(You mean to say two nappy headed guys in green were able to sneak up on you? This is your neighborhood! Even before Mara Bunta set up out here Vespucci High has been fifty percent raza)

One of the Vagos,, Hector, a man wearing a blue pano who had been present at the shooting and had seen the two the day they had murdered Esteban said, "Yeah, let them try and say we're all a bunch of fucking drop outs now, ese. Even if we're banging we're in school. Then again even if we did drop out a lot of paisanos already completed their school years before coming up to the states."

Joker didn't look at him but said, "You're your own cliqua and you guys have held it down here in the West side for a while so you got my respecto. El Sol on the other hand is a member of Mara Bunta Grande. We maybe Vagos 13 in our cora but to be MBG is a lot more specific. We still have our own unique steelo. I won't tell you vatos from V 13 how to run your operation. That's on your own shot caller to do but since a lot of these fools came from East Los originally, they have a responsibility to represent to the fullest and to get shit done and report to me."

El Sol said, "Come on, ese...we all tried, man they were armed to the teeth like I said. I almost got one of them, I shot one of them in the ear blew that shit off. I almost killed them before they could get away but that fucking punk ran me over."

Armando pounded the wall hard. "The police are looking for you and for these two," He beckoned to the two original gangsters from Vespucci 13. "That was your apartment you were torturing them in right? Now this hood is up to our ass in bodies. You're all suspects. You're lucky I buy property here to keep an eye on my soldiers. This block is hot right now. You bring all this heat on Vespucci once again and you didn't even kill them?! Oh but wait, 'they were armed to the teeth' well what the fuck were you, homes? You guys all got choppers and shotguns. You mean to tell me a couple of Negro maricones can shoot straighter than you?"

A younger Mara Bunta member of about twenty joked, "Maybe it's that gay passion to save their boyfriend from us," Joker snapped, "Shut up!" The guy did. Joker turned to El Sol. "I know you did your best. These boys," He beckoned to the two Vagos, "Left that Family asshole fucked up for life. If he survives he'll have their marking on him and he can never take it off. It's a carving not a placaso. You chopped the car shop guy's elbow off. I like that but if the means don't come up with good results, I can't call it a success."

He then looked at El Sol who was nervous. "I know what you're thinking. Why don't I deal with it? I already got enough on my plate. I have to deal with the Familes and Ballas in South Central. They're literally just across one highway from us. Did you know that? Still, I expected all the cliquas in this neighborhood to hold shit down out here from any threats."

He then eyed Sol carefully, "You know what you gotta do right? Price of failure,"

El Sol was very reluctant but he withdrew his machete. Joker turned to Hector and said, "Turn that TV up, ese. All the way," He brought the blade to his left chest and he gritted his teeth to brace for the pain. He sliced his left nipple off. He let out a cry but he stifled it punching his left leg to distract him from the pain. The severed nipple bled profoundly. El Sol breathed heavily but then finally handed Joker his own nipple in hand.

Joker grinned sadistically. "Bueno ... ahora el otro. Vamos."

(Good...now the other one. Let's go)

This time the tattooed gang member put his own blue folded bandanna in his mouth to bite down on, tears of pain filling in his eyes as he prepared to mutilate himself further. Though the TV was loud enough to cover it up, he roared with agony.

Standing By Your Grave

He was at the homeboy Esteban's grave. He was dressed more casual than usual cholo attire today. He wore a black T shirt about two sizes two big, a turquoise stone necklace, baggy but not sagging blue jeans, and an LS Corkers hat that was blue and white, the true and original colors of the team.

He had a leno in his right ear and a pisto in hand. He spotted Chino, Esteban's cousin sitting at the grave with a beer in a brown paper bag. He had a single tear in each eye and he blinked trying to get rid of them.

"Hey homes..." He said. It seemed he was talking to himself but on some level he wanted to believe his primo existed out there somewhere. "Just came by to say q vo you know...send my saludos...hope you're doing pretty firme homie. I know it's been a minute... remembering when we used to kick it when we were little kids. Cause man we dominated even though things ended up the way they did...but hey...take care dog...I'll see you some day, carnal."

Chino's Peyote was nearby, the song RIP by Brownside playing. Culebra approached him. "How's it going, brother. I'm here for the same reason,. I'm gonna miss him."

Chino slapped hands with him as he saw him. They exchanged a quick hug. "It's good to see you, compa. I hear you've been putting in serious work on those chavalas out in South Central. Good to know. Let them know that even if you and I are from East Los, this whole city is ours and there isn't shit any of those panochas can do to stop us."

Culebra asked, "How you holding up, skin? You know your tia came to see me in prison. That was how I even found out in the first place. I couldn't believe it but I couldn't do shit que no? I still had time to serve. It broke my heart to see her crying like that though. Made me tear up in the visiting room too."

Chino looked down at the grave. "Mano...he really had the whole world ahead of him you know? He got love from west to east. He even met up with homies from Liberty City. Schooled the on Vagos principals if there was anything they weren't up on he told them."

He sighed. "All because of that fucking Armenian...I always knew they were trash. Soon as they started coming to this city. They might be under Onda's rule as far as who they pay taxes to but I never would have agreed to let them in as one of us. Not only did CGF start a war they can't handle with us but so did they."

Culebra sat next to him. "Yeah, I get it bro. I'm ready to move on them anytime. You mi perro carnal you know that. The Armenian, at least the one that got Esteban killed is dead himself. Now we just have to get the guys that carried that shit out. Tu abes, that bald headed buzzard made it seem like he just wanted the bike back but not his life."

Chino's eyes were dark and ruthless in that moment. Bloodshot even. "Oh fucking well for him, homes. He should have thought about that before. I get why he sends in a couple of tintos to collect for him. He's too much of a coward himself to ride himself and he figures they're so tough they can steal from anybody. They may have gotten away with that bike but now that's like a big neon sign so we know who that bitch is once we find him."

Just then, a few Vagos and Mara Bunta members showed up with flowers in hand for the grave. Culebra recognized Sad Eyes, Lefty and Indio as well as the Vagos. Toker Wicked and Stomper were there as well as a vato he did not recognize. He was bald and stood at five foot eight so not very tall but he was buff looking fresh out of the pinta. He wore a black wife beater and blue dickies with a yellow rag around his neck.

He also had a goatee and sunglasses on. Wicked was wearing a dark blue plaid shirt like a cowgirl but had tied it in a knot showing her toned stomach even more like a cowgirl, and she had on a yellow bandanna around her head tied folded just to cover the forehead, chola style. She also had on some tight black pants.

Toker wore a blue L.S. Corkers baseball jersey over a white shirt and black dickies. He also had a Liberty City Rampages beanie on. "Culebra and Chino greeted them all with hugs and hand shakes. "Good to see you again, Culebra. Como estas?" Asked Wicked. He admitted, "I've been better. That's my homeboy. He was too young. Hey who is that?" He beckoned to the pelon in the shades.

Toker introduced him. "That's Uno. He's from Davis," The tattoo on Uno's right forearms and biceps indicated Vagos allegiance. The tattoo read, DVTF. Davis Varrio Taco Flats. They were a set that was in serious war with the Families and Ballas that resided in Davis. Every single one of them unlike those puto Aztecas who cherry picked which black gangs they were cool with.

Stomper had a gold bandanna in his pocket and a blue one around the neck. He wore a black windbreaker over a white T shirt pus black jeans. Sad Eyes was wearing a white halter top blouse under a blue checkered shirt which mixed the masculine with the feminine, a very pachuca way to dress. She had a pair of blue jeans and some platform dark blue and black shoes. Lefty wore a light blue T shirt with a logo for Candy Suxx. The words in black read Bite Me in capital letters, a reference to a porno flick she shot in the 80's.

"So you're Culebra, eh? I hear a lot about you, ese. I hear you're the vato that put the beat down on Katt Williams. You got mas respecto for that but are you really all that they say you are?"

Culebra narrowed his eyes at him. "My reputation on the streets speaks for itself, fool. Be trucha what you're saying this isn't South Central, comprende? You're in our hood,"

Stomper held up his hands stepping between the two. "Tranqile...both of you. We don't need no more Vago on Vago problems, carnales. There's been enough of that for too long. We ran this city for years in the 70's and 80's and we run it now but we need to stop cutting each other's throats. That was how the Ballas and Families became bigger in the early 90's. There were more of them back then."

Uno sneered. "Since when are Mara Bunta, Vagos ese? To me they were always just a little too loco. Even for a gangster, man. They don't know when to draw the line."

Lefty snapped, "Hey that's bullshit, man! We've been holding it down in the pen and the calle for Sur San Andreas. How are we Vagos? We got that big blue numero Trece at the end, homie. I always keep in touch sending kites to the homies on the yard."

Culebra nodded in agreement. He had when he was in prison. He was one of the only homies to come and see him oddly enough. He didn't know why Mousy or Sniper had not. He would have to ask later. Toker agreed. "Yeah, come on homes. Enough Raza fighting raza. Mara Bunta maybe loco but at least they aint cool with the naps."

Uno sighed and said, "Dispensa homie. Serio..." He offered his hand to Lefty who shook it after a moments pause He held his hand out to Joaquin show his sincerity. Culebra wasn't wanting to but everyone was watching so he shook his hand. Uno then added, "Look, you can say what you will, bro all I'm saying is I want to see it for myself. We're putting in lots of work on those chanates both violet and green but we got a lot of heat on us. CRASH. They're cracking down on Chicanos more than them especially if you're from Davis they think any gang related shooting was our fault. Even if it is we don't always need that kind of shit."

Culebra asked, "So what are you saying?" Uno pointed out, "You ever want to make some feria come by Davis. Those bitches from Covenant and Brogue avenue for a long time they thought only the Families were a threat to them and they acted like we weren't even there but once this shit went down, they really felt the pressure. Only problem is they aren't feeling enough pressure. They're still thinking Davis is theirs."

He then looked at the other gang members present. "Sabes que? Hit me up if you're ever in Dais. You all look like you got some business to discuss. Cino, I just came by to show respects but call me later, okay? We need to go for a drink."

Chino Grande nodded. "Ora, pelon. I'll give you a ring sometime this week," With that, Uno went back to his own car, an old school gold and white Hermes. Lefty asked Culebra, "You got a minute, hermano?"

They stepped aside while Amata, Indio, and the other Vagos discussed the life of their fallen comarada even swapping some small stories. "Listen, J, some Tranny's hit some of the homies over in Vespucci now that aint our hood but some of our compas from here moved there and it was some Mara from here that started their clique that way. Joker is raising a big fuss about it. I guess two Familia chavalas went through shooting. Them and some Vespucci Matones kidnapped a Family OG and a friend of theirs trying to lure the guys that killed our friend here. They showed up and they did get the hostages out but one of the homies knows what they look like. Only thing is they're not from CGF. They're from Forum Drive."

Joaquin snickered. "Forum? They're lame. They're lucky if they even have fifty people representing their neighborhood. Even among green raggers they're a joke, ese. Just a bunch of Chamberlain Hills drop outs is what I heard."

Jose gave him an uncertain look. "Doesn't matter. What they lack in numbers they're trying to make up in brute force. Pretty much the rules of banging in this city anyway. I don't know the exact detail on that hood they are pretty small time. Actually compared to CGF they're fucking microscopic but I guess the guys that started it had a falling out with some of the shot callers from Chamberlain Hills and the rest was history."

Culebra pondered, "You think the same guys that started that hood are the same ones that shot up Vespucci Beach? If that's the case we gotta ride on them. Actually we gotta ride on them no matter what. Show no weakness. The Families are considered one of the most dangerous gangas in the country but they're always usually the underdogs. They're only the majority and have the edge over Ballas when on the east coast but even over there the Families aren't accepted by L.S. Familia cliquas."

He lit the Frajo and said, "Look, Left, I need to hit these guys back I know this but what about Indio and Sad Eyes? Don't they still want that one Ball Sack from Brogue dead too?" Lefty said with a touch of stress in his voice, "Yeah they do but you know of all the hoods in teh city lately Brogue is quiet. I haven't heard shit from my eyes over there in Davis. The pigs may not know exactly what hood shot us up in El Burro but we do. That still doesn't mean CRASH won't be all over their hoods."

Culebra thought about that. "Well I think they must have put the pieces together now, man. I mean we did steal a police cruiser and kill two of their OG's plus change from me and Amata," He said with a chuckle. "If that doesn't tell them shit then they're dumber than they look. They probably didn't know who hit us until the payback came. Now it's hot all over."

Lefty speculated, "Well seeing as two of you went in there discreetly and fucked them up in their own hood, and if the cops know about which set Mara Bunta is having fights with now, there's a good chance that Lobster? He probably skipped town. I mean don't get me wrong I haven't been watching the news for a few days so i may have missed something but I'm pretty sure shit has been quiet. He wouldn't be the first Ball Less chavala to skip town when Ese's made things too real for them."

Lefty grinned saying, "It's too much to hope for but maybe he found himself a nice mud hut on the other side of the globe?" He was just saying that to be funny. "Nah...he probably went to Liberty or some of the other east coast towns with Ballers now. Good way to shake the head too."

Culebra asked, "So what do you want me to do about our problem from Forum Drive?" Lefty was silent a moment and then said, "Actually, now that I think about it, when I talked to Joker earlier he said that one thing he did find out from the Vagos out there was that this bud dispensary called Smoke On The Water is owned by a guy from the Families. His source poked around and said that was strange cause historically only Ballas and Vagos ever lived around there."

Joaquin listened trying to decide what to do. "A legal weed shop? Yeah that is strange. I can't even figure why a gang banger who probably grew up selling mota would want to be involved with legalized weed when it would probably put dealers out of business,"

Lefty agreed. "Yeah and that's another reason this country is mas estupido, homie. Instead of giving white hipsters these jobs at the shops they could employ people from the hood that do that for a living even when there was risks involved. Take the pressure off que no? That would save tax payers a lot of dollars. Instead of keeping the poorest people as criminals making us compete with these yuppie millenial college students that will never do shit for this world."

Culebra cut in, "Hey you know I'm technically a college student right?" Jose said, "Yeah I know bro but you're from the barrio and you didn't have any advantages, breaks or privileges growing up. You earned that college scholarship, okay? I'm talking about those lazy fuckers that probably grew up playing video games and getting stoned and if they got in trouble their parents could bail them out."

Joaquin had an idea, "Wait...what if though those Family boys found a loop hole? If one of their own runs the smoke shop and that shit is legal, he can get that brought in to the hood for his boys to peddle. I'm not so sure if they got caught that would make a difference one way or the other but maybe they could say they got it from their boy...that would give them a financial edge on the streets."

Lefty shook his head. "Chale, J. They would need a medical marijuana card even if it legal here," He then added after thinking, "Then again, their homeboy that owns that shop could get them one pretty easily. Fuck man...why didn't I think of that?"

Culebra smirked, "Wanna burn their shop down?" Lefty didn't. "No, there's got to be a better way to go about it. Over time, maybe we can take their business out from under them. For now I say we take one of their stashes. Right now, we can financially fuck them right under their noses. I mean that's probably a way the Families are trying to rake in legit income so if every time we hit them and take their mota they're not only going to be pissed but that should flush them out of hiding."

He then added, "Not this time right away though. Shouldn't be any trouble at all. Since the two guys that went through Vespucci got fucked up pretty bad they're likely in a hospital so they won't be able to to jack shit about it. They got a shipment headed from Smoke On The Water to the Vanilla Unicorn in Strawberry. They should have a good amount of green on board. They're probably even working for that gabacho downtown that was trying to get signatures from everybody."

He then instructed Joaquin, "Snake, I want you to tail the delivery truck. Don't let them reach Strawberry but don't try and take them too fast. You should take them once you're in the Textile District. Get them in downtown. That way it's halfway between Vespucci Beach and East Los. You'll still have the city of Strawberry just south of you so keep a trucha for the snot rags but I know you can handle it."

Culebra nodded. "Orale, vato. I'll get it done. I'll give you a ring when I've got the truck," Culebra then bid every gang member farewell but not before Toker said there was still work for him in Rancho if he should ever need it. He slapped hands with Chino and said, "Listen, brother, I know you just got paroled and I am doing a run for Lefty to fuck with those Grave Street pussies but I know when the time comes you'll want to ride with us to go after the Families. I'm glad you're back."

The bald cholo nodded. "Likewise, guey. Call me later, okay? Don't forget, eh we East Los Vagos can use some help too. You ever want to make some feria and want to help us with some trouble we have, just drop on by mi canton."

Culebra got into the brown Manana he had stolen earlier in Banning. He began to drive West. As he did he put the radio to East Los FM. The song Ride For The Cause by Charlie Row Campo played. Before long he pulled up to the Ammu Nation in Alta.

He went in and the heavy set white guy behind the counter nodded to him. "What threat to the American way of life can I help you extinguish today? Oh...I mean welcome to Ammu Nation what can I get you?"

Culebra bought a silencer for the AK he already owned and he bought ammunition for it, his handgun, which was a Beretta p4 Storm Handgun and bough six magazines each containing seventeen rounds for it in S&W .40 caliber. That ran him $600 for the gun plus the ammunition expenses.

On top of that he also purchased a pump action shotgun. A Mossburg 590. He also purchased body armor. The shotgun cost him $2000. So far he had already blown several G's on the weapons but he was ready to go. He left and the guy called, "Stay second amendment!"

Culebra got onto the highway deciding to use that as a shortcut rather than go intersection after intersection. As he drove through the city, he began to remember how it was in his days when he had gone to Vespucci High School and how he had first met Esteban in the first place.

September 5 2004

Vespucci High School

He looked around the halls at the sea of faces. First period didn't start for another good fifteen minutes. He was fifteen going on sixteen and he sure did not want to be here. Even as he had ran from his last foster home almost two years ago it seemed, Lefty and even Joker, his big homies insisted that he still go to school. He had been going to Kennedy High School before but he had been expelled for smoking weed in a bathroom.

Here he was, in a strange school he had never been to and sure he was still Mara Bunta he was from Murietta Heights but out here there was none of his own clique.

He needed to find his own classroom. That was always the hardest thing about a new school year. As he got to his locker he tried the combination a few times and it didn't work. The Chicano youth was dressed in a pair of white and blue Colonel Cortez shoes, some brown khakis, some blue pendletons over a gray T shirt and a Los Santos Corkers hat in blue, the original color of the team.

He tried it a fourth time but still no luck. A pair of black teenagers, seeming to be higher in grade than him, sneered saying, "Get a load of the Freshman. Fool can't even get his locker open I bet this nigga can't even find his dick, yo!" Culebra turned around and scowled. "If I wanted to hear an assholes opinion, I'd fart. I'm a sophomore, dumb ass."

He wore a purple Boars hat on backwards and he wore a Violet and white Letterman's jacket plus baggy blue jeans. "The fuck you say? Get a load of this motherfucker, nigga. Fool think he's the shit. Nice gear, homie where you get them the discount store?"

Joaquin said, "This is the steelo where I come from, homes. Fuck you if you don't like it," The guy snickered, "You Ese's love copying off us but you supposed to hate us. Niggas aint wore no checkered shirts since the 90's homies aint wearing that no mo."

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe your homies don't but mine do and you're wrong you got it ass backwards. we wore this since the 50's ese. If it isn't broke don't fix it."

The arrogant black youth snickered, "Yeah cause you can't fade this, boy. We got our sporty threads you feel me? This nigga looks like a Sub Urban explosion. You a hispter?"

He finally did get the locker open and he put his bag in it but took out the binder he'd need. "Yeah, says the guy dressed like some repressed jock homo. Real original,"

The man sneered, "You know what, bitch I'm getting real sick of you mouthing off this is my motherfucking school, boy. You just a tourist. This is my hood and my school."

Joaquin's heart was pumping and he was not sure if it was fear or adrenaline but he had figured out from the way this kid had his hat titled to the left that he was a member of the Ballers even if only a teenage member. He was ready for a fight if he had to. Joaquin said, "Unless you're part of the Tongva people you're the tourist not me. Your hood is on my land and last I checked, they don't let pinche Balll Lickers become principals so this aint your school, either."

One of them who was not wearing colors but was possibly a member still, an Ethiopian American kid who had rejected his own country's language and had adapted to the lingo of African Americans snickered, "Is this nigga drunk or what?"

The leader snorted, "You best not be Vagos either fool r I'ma beat that ass," Joaquin was getting tired of this. "I don't know why guys like you always start shit but I'm Mara Bunta. You can go ahead and try me motherfucker!"

Hallway security took notice and started walking that way. The leader said, "Aight. Meet us outside at the two o'clock bell over by the flag pole. We can deal with this shit after school see how hard you really is."

Joaquin glared but said, "Fine. One on one. No weapons no punk bullshit like that. I've never gotten to face up with a flurple rag fag before anyway so bring it on, leva."

The guy growled, "Oh yup. I got yo ass boy. I'll be seeing you later."

The security guard, a stocky bald white man got between them and menacingly demanded, "There a problem here, gentlemen? This is not South Central. This is a relatively nice area. Let's keep it that way unless you want detention."

(Present Day)

As he reflected on that, it was crazy how long it had been. It killed him he'd never get to smoke a leno with the homeboy anymore. Killing whoever did it would not bring Esteban or anyone else back but all the same this was all he could do. It was the closest thing to justice a deceased Chicano from the streets could hope for.

As he drove, he got off the highway. It was time to go to work. The sounds of the rap chorus blared.

Ese we ride for the cause came to let the world know

Charlie Row Capaneros levas better lay low

we in control of these calles cowards aint on the level

settle pedo like some rebels pack the heaviest metal

Meanwhile...

Carvito Campbell got into the delivery van with the driver. They were to drive the van from Vespucci to the Vanilla Unicorn. Carvito was a twenty old black man from Belize. He, along with fourteen other countrymen of his, crossed illegally into the US. Though tensions between blacks and Mexicans were at an all time high in Los Santos County, Mexican coyotes only cared about the color of money.

He was a member of the Forum Gangsters too. He was down for his hood and had been for a while. Initially, he was jumped into CGF but he followed Franklin and Lamar . Sure, he had love for the OG's and more respect for them than they did but at the same time he didn't like the pyramid schemes either.

The young black youth wore a pair of black jeans, a crisp white T shirt, and a black Vice City Mambas snap back. He was not decked out in Family colors. All though most young niggas was all too eager to rep their shit for anybody and everybody to see he wasn't stupid like that. He only wore green when he was on missions for his hood. Even so, he did have a heater tucked up under his shirt. Glock 9mm.

Carvito was not entirely sure what all the street politics at the top was. Franklin and Lamar had shattered some truce with the Ballas. Carvito had not been sure about it from the start to begin with. It was true that he was cool with some Ballers from Strawberry and even a few from Davis but only with the OG's who had brains from that side, they'd put in work when they were his age and now they cooled out and sat back and were calm and calculated.

The niggas his age repping purple he had no love for. Them, he'd blast on site. Unless they survived as many years as niggas like Rocket and Burns who he was cool with, they weren't worth respecting. He'd even been cool with D but that nigga was gone, clapped by Stretch.

Now, as they were getting ready to go, the driver who worked for Smoke On The Water, a complete wigger with shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, a dirty gray sweater and gray jeans said, "Aight dog let's bounce."

As they drove, He said, "So it's good that your boss is from Chamberlain Hills, huh? I bet it must be good to get legit cash raking in."

Carvito wasn't sure he liked his guy or not. "Yeah I guess. Paper is paper to me it aint no thing I read too much into. It's easier for you. You have a job."

The guy nodded. "I'm sorry, bro. I didn't mean anything by it. Working at a pot dispensary though, legal or not, let's just say my peeps aint proud," Carvito shot him an annoyed look. "Peeps? Really?" The guy said, "I meant...my folks...parents. My bad..."

Carvito sighed. "I'm gonna do you a favor, dog and let you know something. You try a little too hard. Can we just listen to the radio? I mean yeah Im from the hood I do what I gotta do but it aint for everybody. It aint as glamorous as it looks but you know, I'm in for life. I know what I signed up for. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

Joaquin pulled up to the Smoke On The Water shop. He saw a van pulling away so he backed the car in reverse and parked and waited. Finally, the guy, accompanied by somebody else, likely his bodyguard, began to drive. Joaquin stayed two car lanes in distance behind them.

He remembered what Jose had told him. Not to jack these fuckers until about halfway there. As they drove out of the area he spotted a trio of Vagos glaring at the van. Two men and a woman. One of the guys, a Vago with a shaved head and his hat on backwards, cursed. "Pinche vultures...we shouldn't let that store be in our neighborhood. Either they should hire us or get the fuck out of our turf."

Culebra chuckled at the irony. He could hear that the fools in the van were listening to Kendrick Lamar's bitch ass. He drove after them through the Vespucci Canals area. There was two cars ahead of him between him and the van but he still had eyes on them.

He got a call from a number he did not recognize. The guy who had called him before was Lester, and he would be dropping by his place later when he had time. He answered. "Yeah?" The voice was Mexican. "Hello, old friend do you remember me?"

Joaquin said, "You sound familiar. Not sure from where though,"

The man replied, "This is Martin Madrazo. You did some work for me five years ago. You have been away for some time now. I did try and contact you three years ago but you were a hard man to reach it seemed you were in college and then when I thought I would contact your employer, it seemed you had just been arrested. Between the military and prison there was no reaching you."

Culebra said, "Yeah I know. You lose track of time when that happens. Normally people are gone because of the military or prison but not usually both. Anyway what can I do for you?"

Martin said, "You should stop by my ranch. It's just outside of the city limits. La Fuente Blanca. Up Senora road north of Los Santos. Not the mansion from the last time we met. There was...a little problem with that. It is all resolved now."

Joaquin was concerned, "You okay, man? You sound kind of funny. No offense," Martin snapped a bit saying, "It is not important! Just meet me at my ranch. Goodbye..."

He hung up. Now Joaquin was nearing Legion Square. He saw the van spot a police officer not far from there. The two in the van had probably determined that even if the cops were not out for them it was probably best to avoid them by taking a short cut. They slowly went past a truck down an alley but had to stop as a driver was starting up another one and they had to wait for him to move. Classic L.S.

He thought and decided that would be his window. He circled the block to meet them at the other side. The Mule came out just as he pulled the Manana up. He saw the van starting to move again so he pulled the car in front of them. He had his other weapons strapped around him, the .40 at his side and the shotgun strapped around the shoulder but slung to the side.

He aimed the AK-47 at the driver and yelled, "Vamos! Get the fuck out!"

The two men came out with their hands up. One a white boy the other, a black man dressed like your typical ghetto boy. "I know what you have back there so both of you walk that way and there won't be any trouble."

The youth who looked like he was just out of High School, and if he had graduated may have been left back like three or four years before graduating, though he kept his hands where Joaquin could see him said, "You're done, boy You know who's paper you're fucking with?"

Culebra growled, "Shut the fuck up. Better yet both of you get on the ground," The young man moved out of sight to the right side of the van backwards trying to get to the back of the van. Joaquin warned him, "Don't try it!" the kid yelled, I aint going out like no bitch!" He retrieved a firearm from his shirt and tried coming around from the back to the left side to shoot.

Culebra fired a round and hit him in the neck. The kid fell over his pistol hitting the ground as he tried to not bleed out or choke on his own blood. The white guy yelled, "You just fucking shot him! You psycho! You're gonna regret this!"

Culebra smacked him over the face with the Assault Rifle and yelled, "Fuck you, Slim Shady! The only reason you're not dead and he is is somebody has to spread the word we're not fucking around. You tell whoever you work for you fuck with us, we fuck with them twice as hard."

The truth of it also was that he knew that the boy he had shot was also a member of the Families. He may not have been wearing any colors but he knew that business was run by the Families and it wouldn't have been smart to have a driver without at least one bodyguard. He was lucky that the Assault Rifle had been silent when he shot him too.

Meanwhile, as the driver lay bleeding, Carvito groaned and managed to murmur, "In my phone...call this number...they can deal with this...you gotta go before the pigs get here, man..." The youth handed him his phone with blood soaked fingers. Despite the drops of blood on the screen he could see he had gotten to his contact list. "Lamar Davis...got it...hey just hang on bro...I aint gonna let you die..."

Culebra meanwhile, had gotten everything he needed from the Manana and taken it into the van. The van did smell strongly of marijuana so he understood why they had decided to cut a short through the alley. Wrong fucking alley...he thought and he thought that now he would need to avoid them too because even if any of those fools had medical cards which he doubted, that didn't mean that cops wouldn't still pull them over or him.

He began to head east now. He was headed down San Andreas Avenue. He put the radio station from Radio Los Santos to East Los FM. The song Mantando Gueros by Brujeria played. This was a good jam. They were a Mexican band that was into Satanic Black Metal. This was from their debut album of the same name most of which was about drug laws, crossing the border, Satanic rituals and witchcraft and also sex but it was good music. La Raza needed more representation all around. Even metal, a kind of music that was supposed to be by gueros.

Just then, shots ricocheted off the back of the van. He ducked down.What the fuck? He stayed down as a round shattered the driver side window. He got to the other side as a vehicle fired at him from the left side. "Racist ass Vago! He killed Carvito! Tired of these illegals!"

He pretended to be dead, not sure it would work. One of them said, "Is that motherfucker dead? Get up there and make sure he is!" As he heard a door open and a Family banger get up to the window with running footsteps he had the Beretta readied. The black man, a guy with cornrows, and a neck tattoo that said CGF.

He wore a green blazer and black jeans. He fired three shots and each bullet hit where the last had punching a nice clean hole out of the back of his head. He did not waste a moment as he knew it would only take that long before the Family goons realized what had just happened through the commotion and noise. He pumped the shotgun setting the pistol next to him.

He came around the side of the van popping up just a few seconds and fired a blast into the SUV. He heard the blaring of a horn as he had killed the driver blowing the man's head in half all over the windshield. Culebra ducked down as the two in the back seat began opening fire on him. "Get that bitch!" Yelled one of them with a deep voice. They sprayed the van full of rounds.

Culebra crawled in cover on the ground knowing he couldn't afford to let these assholes fuck up the weed shipment and if the van went so did it. He pumped again and fired, hitting one of them as he fired around the side blindly, the shotgun giving a kick as he did. He wounded the guy but he hadn't killed him. "E! Bitch got me in the gut...and side...pop that nigga, man!"

Culebra got his AK readied and he came around the side catching the next man who the wounded gangster had called too. He fired ten rounds, hitting the man in the abdomen and sent him rattling against his own vehicle, slipping on his own blood down the Cavalcade. The other guy tried to raise a Micro SMG but Joaquin fired a burst into his forehead and the guy's brains exploded over his clothes spattering Joaquin with it.

He heard a car racing up the street and automatic rounds were fired out of the window. It was a 2008 Black Zion. The guy inside the car was wearing a green Magnetics T shirt, dark green gym shorts, and a light green rag over his head while he had a darker green rag around his face. The guy was firing two SMG's out of the window. Joaquin was hit by about twelve rounds in the abdomen and back out of 25 and the guy was still letting them rip.

The car pulled to a stop and the gangster reloaded. The other gang member, the driver, was a young black man in his twenties, his hair a mini Afro. Though Culebra's armor had caught the worst of the rounds, this banger was running up on the Mara Bunta veteran, firing and he hit him once in the waist and a round grazed his left knee. Though he had taken minor injury from that, he cried out with agony as it still hurt like a bitch.

The guy decked out in green yelled, "Goddamn this spic still aint dead yet?!" Culebra fired from the ground and emptied the magazine at both of them, hitting them both. He hit the guy in the Magnetics shirt in the stomach which lodged into his gall bladder, his lower intestine and heart. The man dropped to his knees, blood from his mouth seeping through the green rag around the face, his eye balls bugging out.

The other guy had taken two slugs in the groin and three in the chest but he likely did not yet feel the pan in his groin as the adrenaline was keeping him fighting. Joaquin saw him try to recover from the rounds just long enough to fire but ke kicked the man in the arm and the gun clattered to the pavement. "You punks trying to take our hoods out from under us...FUCK YOU!" He yelled.

Culebra didn't have time to reload the AK at the moment so he pumped the shotgun again and he fired blasting the man's stomach open, his insides actually spilling out from the blast, exposed partly through the hole in his shirt.

He got in the van and took off hoping nobody saw him even if he was masked up. Luckily, the majority of bystanders in the area were running in fear for their lives, a couple others were ducked down in businesses dialing 911.

He sped up down the street. He took a right and boned straight. He put about six blocks between himself and the shootout when suddenly two vehicles tried to block off the street in front of him. He pulled the van to a stop and went to the back of the van as he got out of the van before they could, firing six rounds over his shoulder with the Beretta to cover himself.

Another SUV like the first one rolled up the street and four bangers got out, these ones better armed. Joaquin took cover behind a reloading the Assault Rifle. The other vehicle was a Silver patriot.

One of them was a black man with a shaved head, , a green jacket he had unzipped, and black jeans with a 12 gauge and fired, blasting out the driver and passenger window of the orange Bobcat "Come on and stop hiding, punk! Get the fuck out!" Culebra blindly fired around the side, not daring to come out from cover as they were peppering the car with rounds and he was sure to take a hit if he peeked out. He fired fourteen rounds blindly and hit the guy in the left thigh and down to his left shin bone. The guy fell over, the shotgun discharging.

He came out firing popping up in different places so they didn't know where he was, a combat strategy he had picked up in the war. He shot the man in the back as the man was trying to come around the front of the truck and then go around to the back from the right. The rounds sent the man face down in the street as one of seven AK rounds hit him in the spine.

He spotted an overweight banger in baggy jeans, a gray sweater, and a green do-rag a man in his thirties with a five o'clock shadow turning into a beard. Culebra fired, hitting the man before he could get him as the guy had the same type of weapon as Culebra. The man was bleeding from the rib cage on both sides and the chest but kept coming. He fired and hit Joaquin multiple times. His side hurt and he wondered if the Tranny had broken or cracked a rib or not. His chest ached too. Culebra shot the weapon from the man's hands blowing his finger s off. He cried out and the Ex Marine put a round in the back of his skull.

One of the gang members from the SUV had a Desert Eagle, the other had an H&K MP5. Culebra aimed down his sights at the man with the Magnum. He was a black man with dread locks and a green checkered shirt plus white khakis imitating cholo style as many black gangs had in the 90's. He fired and hit the man in the left knee cap blowing it out, turning the tendon to hamburger. The guy collapsed and he raked the slugs up to his chest going from his heart valve up to his sternum.

The other gang member wore a Magnetics jersey and had a black baseball hat on plus black jeans. He was a lighter skinned African American. "Yeah you thought you were being real slick taking our bud huh, buster?"

The thugs from the patriot came up the street even more well armed than he was carrying Assault Rifles and one of them even had a military grade battle Rifle. The guy with that high tech weapon shouted, "Yeah you pussy ass mark! The bud's marked with a GPS to make sure it got to the right place!" The guy who yelled that was a thin black male in a puffy black jacket a white T shirt, a red do-rag and who had a Chamberlain Hills tattoo on his neck. Culebra reloaded again and he got the shotgun as they concentrated their fire on a side of the truck they thought he was.

He came out firing the shotgun until it was empty forcing them to cover behind their own cars. GPS?! Shit I need to find it before the next wave hits me.

He remembered he had a grenade left from his ordeal with the Aztecas as he reloaded the shotgun. He spotted the guy with the CGF tats who was about twenty five yards away. He fired anyway even though the gun was not the best with long range it still beat a crappy sawed off. He hit the guy and saw him fall but he had only hurt him and not killed him.

The gang members were all in cover but firing at the Bobcat like crazy and the thing began to smoke. He had an idea that could be fatal if he didn't time it right but it was a trick that had worked a couple of times in Afghanistan against the Taliban. He chucked the grenade which he kept in the breast pocket of his own shirt. He did not pull the pin but they didn't know that. More gang members had arrived and were joining their brothers in cover but when they saw the grenade land they yelled, "Oh shit! This motherfucker's a terrorist!"

A darker skinned black man with a crew cut and tattoos all over his arms one of which said BK for Baller Killer and another that stated his lifelong allegiance to the Families in fewer words, wore a green and black striped T shirt long gray jean shorts and a lime colored rag that hung out of his right pocket, saw the grenade and yelled, "RUN!"

They ran up the street trying to find other vehicles to take cover behind to escape the blast. At least half of them had fallen for it. Joaquin aimed, kicking in some of that precision he had learned in the USMC. Though it was on fully automatic, he was careful with his rounds. This magazine had sixty rounds in it anyway. He fired at one man destroying his Achilles heel. When he heard the satisfying screech that came from the black rival, he grinned and fired a couple more at his other one.

He fired a few more into his buttocks just for the fun of it. The guy fell down smacking his head on the street. Culebra aimed for the guy who had yelled to run and hit him in the middle of his back as well as the back of both legs. He was now crawling. Culebra got out of cover as the truck was now on fire from all the bullets. He had fired a total of twenty nine rounds and had dropped four more of them.

He finished those that were wounded. He approached the chavala in the striped shirt the lust for more blood in his eyes. Culebra was pissed that these fuckers had gotten blood on his shirt. That was about the only regret he had from what he had done. The guy in the striped shirt fired a round from the battle rifle even as he was wounded and a round did go through the armor. "Ah!" He cried out.

Culebra angrily ignored the burning pain and fired at the man's left arm and nineteen rounds sawed through the man's arm halfway down to his bone. It was a bloody mess, the tissue and muscle in his arm revealed even seeing a piece of the muscle attached to it. He spotted a tattoo on his right arm that said, FD. Forum Drive...

Without a further thought he fired a burst into the arm's tattoo. The man shrieked like a little girl who fell off her bike. He fired the last of the magazine into his face the last four rights taking off the man's nose, first just the tip of it causing dark red to spray all over like a broken hydrant and then the rest of the cartilage was shattered by the other three rounds leaving him noseless as he would be when he was in the ground and years later, a skeleton.

He spotted a wounded Family member wearing a Fued hat and two green rags one under the hat and one over the face. He had dread locks. Except as he got closer he saw tits. He was a she. She was a slightly overweight black woman with light skin and surprisingly pretty hazel eyes. The truth was, as he h ad thought about it many times before, even while that was an ethic war in Los Santos County, he did not hate black women as he did black men. He did dislike them but they hadn't done enough to warrant hate towards them.

He had seen female Ballers and female Vagos and he certainly knew there were many Mara Bunta hynas but he had always thought before that all Family sets were sausage fests or maybe they didn't think women were g enough to be down. "Don't kill me...," She begged. "I'm trying to get out of the life. Move to North Vinewood...get out of the hood...please.," Her blood covered lip trembled. He felt sorry for her.

Even still, she was wearing green and she was from Strawberry so that made her an enemiga. "Lo Siento..." He said softly. He retrieved the shotgun and fired the 590 once, finishing the member off with a blast to the chest so that at least her family could have an open casket if they wanted all though he had no idea why anybody would want one. Why would anybody want to stare at a corpse? A shell of the person's former self that no longer carried anything inside of it?

He looked at the guy with both heels a hot mess. "You get to live. Consider it your lucky day, homes," He thought to himself, Not like he's fit for banging anymore. He told him, "Tell your homies never fuck with Mara Bunta. Or they die..."

The guy was still writhing in pain, tears drenching his dark face. "All this over...fucking bud...?" Culebra decided it was better if he was not conscious. He kicked him in the face. There was at least one more wounded from his strategy however he emptied the clip from the Beretta into the man's head from the back in the same spot aiming there with one hand, his good arm and as the rounds punched deeper into the deceased man's brain stem serving it, it was like the back of his skull was a tunnel and the bullets were traveling through it, digging bloody tunnels for gold in the form of gray matter.

The rest of them were in fact ducked behind a Moonbeam. There were only three left from another car, a green buffalo that had arrived and they were taking cover behind it. "Come on, dog! Get it together! He's just one motherfucker and he's Mara Bunta! Them niggas are pussies without a hundred of them!"

Culebra thought darkly as he came around with the shotgun, We'll see about that.

He fired as he spotted each of them. The initial blast killed one of them and wounded two. One of which was a black man in a green Letterman's jacket. The man he wounded was not wearing colors but he also had ink indicating he was from Forum. Maybe it was not as he thought. Maybe on some level Forum Drive and Chamberlain still worked together.

Then again they were meant to only be a sub set of CGF anyway. He fired at the man, a light skinned male with multiple braids and blew off his face, leaving a bloody grinning skull looking at him. The last man, had an M4 but Culebra hit him in the face and forced him back before he could get a bead on the Ex soldier. He fired and the shotgun blast took the man's right arm off, at first hanging from a thread of tendon and muscle but then it fell off. He bled like crazy, dark crimson soaking his crisp white T shirt.

The man fell on his side and was going into shock. He went into the van and searched for the tracker. He spotted it after searching under a few bricks and he tossed it out. The cops were now on their way. Those of the Family goons who were still alive and had survived the onslaught were unable to run as they were coming and some probably considered a jail cell a relief to dying.

Culebra got the grenade off the ground as three cars were rolling in hot and he could hear more coming too. He pulled the pin and threw it at them. It landed in front of them and exploded. The first car went up in a blaze the blast sending the hood off the car and it flipped and exploded a second time and caught the other two cars in the blast. They exploded and the cars behind them had to skid to a stop. He hurried up and shut the van and got in and began to drive out of there.

He decided the best way to avoid getting heat on him was to stop by Los Santos Customs. Luckily he was near the one that was not far from an Ammu Nation. He avoided the streets where there were cops until he finally got down to under a bridge. He took it inside and paid them to respray the van to black. He took it out hours later good as new. His shoulder hurt like hell though and he needed to get it taken care of.

He began to drive back up to the lock up in El Burro Heights. As he drove, he had the radio on Los Santos Rock Radio and the song November Rain by Guns N Roses played.

As he drove back toward East Los he thought of the time he had specifically met his deceased friend the first time.

(Flasback)

He had gotten through his first day no problem he had met all his teachers he had participated in gym class and now it was time to g home but he knew he had to face those Lobsters before he could take the long metro ride home. They had told him betwen classes to change it to below the docks on the Del Perro Pier. The Ballas waited for him. "What the hell? I said one on one."

The lead Baller sneered. "Yeah well you piss off one Baller you piss us all off. Me and the homies is finna check your ass then you learn some respect being in somebody else's hood," Culebra growled, "You little bitch!" He swung on the guy despite the guy being a bit stockier than him. The guy swung back and hit him hard. He hit him again and Joaquin barely ducked under it but part of the Senior's fist caught him. Joaquin tackled him around the waist and began throwing hard blows to his stomach.

Joaquin was not as tall as this guy was as he was not yet done growing and through his spurt but he would not let that stand in the way of it. Smaller guys had to fight too. Even more so. David and Goliath came to mind. The guy hit him again. Joaquin's lip was bleeding and this angered him. He had tears in his eyes, fron anger and frustration. The bully laughed, "This little girl is crying. You on your period, nigga?"

Joaquin growled and tackled him going loco on the punk. He swung blow after blow punching and kicking the guy with everything he head. He knocked him down and he managed to get up and he floored him a second time and then a third. The guy came up with a bloody nose his wide nostrils ruby red. The other three Ballas joined in swearing Joaquin with punches and kicks.

It took him back to when he was jumped in. It was to prepare for shit like this. He swung back trying to hit and kick everyone. Joaquin backed up and picked up a rock the size of a baseball. "If you're gonna cheat I may as well even it up."

The Ballas then raised their eyebrows and the leader got a pair of brass knuckles out. One other of the guys homies had the same thing the other two just wrapped chains around their fists. One of them swung his chain around menacingly, the Ethiopian kid. Joaquin warned, "Stay back I swear to God I'll kill you."

The four grinned circling. Just then somebody ran up and punched the Ethiopian kid and the other one with brass knuckles The guy was light brown in skin had a short haircut and stood about five foot six. Yet he looked like a straight up killer. "The Baller leader said, "What the fuck, Jimenez this isn't your business."

The guy said, "A bunch of changos think they can gang up on one of my gente without even giving him a fair fight? I make it my business, ese,"

The other with the knuckles said, "Aight. Then we'll just beat your ass too!" The Chicano student pulled a cuete from his pants. It was a 45. "I don't think so. Since none of you cowards can fight like men, this ends now or I'll end it for you."

The Baller sneered. "You aint goit no bullets in that motherfucker. You aint finna do shit," He quickly enjected the mag just long enough to show them and then put it back in. All of the black gangsters widened their eyes. "If I have to I'll blow away every last one of you. I've already shot two putos for my hood so far so just give me a reason."

The Ballas backed off but said, "This isn't over you Bar Ho, asshole! Next time we'll have a strap and we'll grease your nacho chips you feel me?" With that the youth pistol whipped the leader three times splitting his head open and the guy fell back holding his head in the sand. He pointed it to the next one nearest him and he said, "Do you want to die today, homie? Get the fuck out of here."

They did letting out obscenities as they went by. The Vago turned to him. "Como se llamas, ese?" Joaquin told him, "Joaquin Avena. From East Los," The guy nodded and said, " I'm Esteban Jimenez That's cool. The mother hood. But there's no mayates out there to really give any of you a sense of the way they are with people. If you aint one of them to them they see you as white. It's funny because I feel that way about them. They're like dark skinned gringos. Anyway you okay?"

Joaquin nodded. "That was chingon what you did, man. Pulling a cuete like that? That was gangster man. I have to get one for myself. I mean I represent Mara Bunta but I don't own a fusca yet,"

He wished he hadn't just told the Mexican teen that as he didn't want to appear to be a chavala but the guy said, "Don't worry about it right now. I mean I would worry soon though if you really are from MBG, High School or not the enemigas will come for your ass. Those black guys, they don't normally fight one on one. I'm not gonna deny I've rat packed people too but I'm not afraid to go one on one. In my hood we do both but with the Ballers you're lucky they even just left it at trying to bum rush you. They could have had a gun and killed you."

Joaquin looked down in shame. "I know, home...I fucked up but it's my first day out here you know? I don't really know anybody out here," Esteban lit a spliff up and handed it to him. "Take a toke , loco. I hear you on that. Last year when I was a freshmen, they tried that shit on me. I'm not as tall as you so they thought they'd fuck with me so I took on the biggest Baller there. I took a lot of bruises and shit but I kept coming and eventually I won because I never gave up. Then some of them tried to shoot at me the next day but they missed so I started packing too."

Joaquin took a hit. This was not the first time he'd gotten high. Joker had gotten him high a few days after he got jumped in. He had never been able to get as high as he had the first time he did. He kept coughing and coughing and Joker had just kept laughing at it and handing him water to try and help it.

Joaquin said, "Well I appreciate the esquina homie. That was cool. I owe you one," Esteben shook his head. "You don't owe me shit, dog. Don't get the wrong idea, I hear crazy shit about what Mara Bunta do in Mexico and Central America. In a lot of ways they themselves on top of the federales and cartel made our homeland worse but then, I'll still take up for a Bunta guy anytime over a tinto. I think most Vagos feel the same way. Some are cool with MBG cause you're South Side but many hate you but still, over gringos and mayates, we'll still side with you."

He took another hit as Joaquin blew smoke. "In the pen and the calle..." Joaquin said. "That...plus I don't like to see a vato get jumped. Four on one, six on one it just aint fair. I used to do that shit but I'm not anymore. I remember how much it sucked when i got jumped in."

They began to walk to the bus stop. They talked for a while waiting for the bus and Esteban waited with him until it did come and then they bid farewell.

That day had been the start of a long nine year friendship. Best comaradas or vida. Sadly Esteban's had not been long. It had only been a few months since his murder. As he thought back on his dead friend, he sighed hoping he was in a better place. He finally pulled up to the lockup and parked the van in the garage. He got out and walked out. It was about to be evening.

Mount Zonah

Franklin had been in the hospital a few days. He had gotten plenty of time to see his aunt too. They had reattached his ear and given him some of the best medication in the country for pain killers. They had done the same for Lamar and put his fingers back but he had bitched and moaned every step of the way. Hao was okay now too but they'd had to give him surgery as well. Sadly, Leroy didn't make it. He had died from the burns as well as infection he had caught from being exposed. It was just like the nurse said. Franklin felt numb about i.

He might cry about it later if he was alone. Leroy had been a good homie. They had gone all that way to rescue them both only for him to die at the hospital the next day. All this over a damn bike.

He was finally allowed to be out and about. He wore his hospital gown and boxers underneath because he knew what the gown left exposed if he didn't. He walked to see his Aunt. A white man was helping her walk and she was struggling. "Come on, Ms, Clinton...you're almost there...you can do it."

She was using the bars on the side for support, gritting her teeth with agony. She finally reached it. "That's good, Denise. L's call it a day. It will still take some time but with hard work and effort we should be able to return you to most of your former mobility if not all of it if we're lucky. Let's keep our fingers crossed."

She smiled saying, "Oh I'm praying for that myself. I miss jogging. I always considered myself a full figured woman and proud of it but I don't want to get lazy either,"

Denise saw her nephew and she said, "Thomas would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?" He did as she asked and Franklin approached her. "How are you doing, boy? I'd heard you got sent here too. What kind of foolishness were you up to this time?"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Denise you're really about to sit there and lecture me over what trouble I get into? I'm a grown motherfucking man. I can handle me. As it is what's up[ with you? Before you were saying that I wasn't being a good enough banger cause I wasn't coming around the Berry no more. Which is it? Am I in too much danger or not enough?"

To his surprise and shock her face softened up. "Look, Franklin...I tried to raise you the best that I could. I know life for you wasn't easy. Your father running out like a dog, your mama passing...I tried to protect you from as much of the hood as I could," She struggled for a second to walk as she was having to relearn to walk due to being shot but she put an arm on him. "When you were younger it was much easier but when you started to get into junior high and high school it was harder. You didn't have a father figure to teach you to be a man. I know I believe what I do but I can't deny it would have been easier with somebody else helping me."

She sighed and then said, "Your mama, before she died, I think she knew she didn't have long. That junk was messing her up but she couldn't put the needle down. She told me... she told me to tell you that story about your father being abusive and running out on her. I didn't want to say what she told me to say but it was her dying thing she asked from me. She just wanted to protect you."

Franklin couldn't believe she was telling him this or that they were having a heart to heart. "Protect me from what?" She told him, "Your father left you but he never beat your mother. The truth is, he never knew he had a son. He left San Andreas before you were born. She tried to get a hold of him but she never could. Later down the line she turned to heroin. She said she heard he was back in town some years later when you were little but she never could find him. It was like he was so close but so far away."

She teared up. "She was my sister and I miss her every day. I watched you a lot when you were about five I tried to get her to kick. All those times you stayed with me when she was still here she was trying rehab but lord that child had a deep hole in her heart and she was trying to fill it. She was happy when she was with you but sometimes you'd remind her of your father. I only saw him a few times. I hate to say it but it wasn't even a relationship. It was a one night stand maybe a bit more than that but he left town after she found out she was expecting. That boy had some other problem with his own family. He was running from something. At first I thought he was running from her, from his family, always fucking running..."

She sniffed. "I caught up to him not so long ago and confronted him. Only he didn't remember me. If h didn't know he had a son and he didn't remember me, would he still remember your mother if I asked him? I didn't get a chance to ask him. I told him who I was and he didn't know me so I assumed the worst that he forgot her too and I went off. He had security escort me out. Thought I was just some crazy broad off the streets."

Franklin was not sure what to say. He was speechless. When he could speak he demanded, "Why wouldn't you tell me? I had a right to know! That was my mama and my pops! All this time got me thinking my dad was an asshole turns out he never even knew i was here! Lot of fucking good that story was!"

She had a sad look on her face. "Franklin. You're like a son to me. I know I haven't always been nice to you but it hasn't been easy for me either. I should have appreciated you more. I never had kids so that's what you were to e. I raised you more than she did. I wanted to tell you so many times but I never wanted to break my promise. I kept it for as long as I could."

He looked down in frustration. "It was either betray me or betray my oms, right? But hey at least she was still what I believed she was right? Still a junkie who cared more about dope than her own flesh and blood!" Denise softly said, "I'm sorry, boy. I really am. We've spent so long fighting you and I we haven't really taken the time to see how short life is. I almost died and so did you. I want to start fresh with you. I have to go for now, I have to nap the doc said but if I get better, I will try and be a better role model for you."

She patted him on the back, ruffled his hair and got her crutches. He watched her a moment and the guilt hit him so he helped her to her room. "It aint cool, Denise but...I guess it's better I get the ugly truth than a beautiful lie. I'll come by to visit you later. I need some time to think."

She smiled and said, "All right, baby. Thank you for paying my medical bills, sugar. That was real sweet of you. You didn't have to do that," Franklin snorted. "Of course I did. You aint got no guap. That Women's group you set up in our old crib's got you bankrupt. Besides, like it or not we Family. Nothing can change that."

After he had helped her, he went back to his own room after getting a Sprunk. Just then, as he sat down on the bed he heard a knock. It was Trevor and Michael. "Hey what are ya'll doing here?"

Michael was wearing his brown jacket and jeans. "I should be asking you the same thing, kid. I should be in that bed from a coronary not visiting a guy half my age. What happened?" Franklin shrugged off the question. "It's nothing I can't handle,"

Trevor sat down in the visitors chair. He had a bottle of vodka. The Canadian meth dealer was wearing skinny jeans, a blue denim jacket and a Blaine County hat. "How you doing, Frank? I heard about you getting sent up here. Going to have to give Lamar a visit too."

Michael rolled his eyes at his best friend, "You're not supposed to have booze in a hospital, T. What have you been smoking? Oh wait that's right. Meth,"

Trevor shot inm a dirty look. "You know, sugar tits, I was reading somewhere that nobody is more critical of drinkers and druggies than people who used to be that way. You can pass it off as some Holier Than Though Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do bullshit but what it really is, is a double standard."

Michael responded, "Not really. You and I are about the same age so you should be done with all the partying. It would be hypocritical if I told Franklin here not to party. He's got his whole life ahead of him," Trevor set the bottle down and held his arms up, "What, and I don't? Ray Charles did plenty of smack and he lived to be seventy four!"

Michael said, Yeah and he probably would have been ninety four if he didn't shoot up smack. When I was growing up heroin was the worst drug out there but now meth is and you're doing that shit every day,"

Franklin cut in, "Can you two stop bickering? Damn. You're like a old married couple. Trevor, I'm down for a drink I aint been able to. You mind getting a few more Sprunks bro? We can use this for mixers," Trevor had three glasses but he chuckled, "Haha! You pussy! Real men drink raw."

Despite his heckling Trevor went to get the sodas. Michael sat next to Franklin, Listen, man. I don't mind you dating my daughter. Not at all. For a gang banging drug dealing degenerate you're a pretty good guy. Even with everything you did with me you're still a straighter shooter than a lot of these spoiled millenial brats that Tracey used to date and idiot porn producers twice her age."

Franklin asked, "But?" Michael told him, "Try not to make this kind of shit a pattern. I know we've had more bad luck after what was supposed to be our last job but that's the life I lived. As far as you, I don't want to see you get hurt and I don't want the shit you're involved in blowing back on my daughter. Now I'm not one to talk I've gotten her in danger a lot of times but I've learned from that. I have to be careful and so do you. It would kill me if she got hurt but just as much if say you two were to really start to like each other, and then you get killed over some gang crap, that would really tear her apart."

Franklin sighed. "Yeah I guess. That what you came here to tell me?" Trevor returned and began pouring drinks. "No. We know you'll be well enough to leave here soon. This is regarding our business with the robbery and my business with Dave Norton. I'm going to try and meet with him and try and get him to hear me out. Let him know I've gone above and beyond to earn our freedom. Every last one of us. As much as I owe him he owes me too. I kept Trevor from killing him but that's only a good thing if he continues to be useful."

Trevor growled as he handed them their drinks. "That little prick. You would think with him running the Under Belly Of Paradise that sack of shit could show a little appreciation and back off of our money but noooooooooooo! He has to act like he's not the corrupt little turd we all know he is! There was a very thin line between him and Steve Haines."

Franklin asked, "So what about this money? Did Dave call either of you regarding this job we just pulled off? I would think he'd know it was you too, Mike. Try and use that as even more reason to fuck with you. That's why he wasn't trying to let your ass off the hook before, right?"

Michael sighed. "I know you guys don't have the same reasons to deal with him as me. Still, it's your freedom on the line as much as me. You two did help me and you're right. I owe you more than I can ever pay back which is why I was trying to work out this shit with Davey and the FIB. So that we could all walk away and retire. You would have been the youngest person I ever saw retire I can tell you that much."

Trevor downed the drink fast and said, "Mikey I love you but I call bullshit on that. I know you're trying to turn over a new leaf but old habits die hard! The FIB aren't men of their words. You said we get to retire? I'll retire when I'm dead. Retirement is for old fucks with flaccid boys in their pants."

Trevor took the ottle of Vodka and took a chug. Franklin said, "Nice of you to only give us a little and have the rest for yourself homie," Michael stood up and said, "The only reason the three of us are even free now after everything we did is because I worked with Dave in the end. Sure I got you both sucked up into the FIB that's true but Trevor you wanted the big score and Franklin you wanted bigger and better things and I delivered so how about a little appreciation?"

Trevor chuckled, "Suede bucks is getting mad!" Michael cursed, "Fuck you, T," Trevor got a crazed look in his eyes. He held the bottle in a way that made Franklin think he might club Michael with it. "Fuck me?" He took a swig and that was when Frank thought he would. Michael glared, "Yeah, fuck you!"

Trevor eyed the other man like a vulture. "Do you want to fuck me?" Michael shot the man a look as though he had lost his marbles. "What?" Trevor raised his voice. "DO YOU WANT TO FUCK ME?!" Trevor set the bottle down and said, "All right, Mike. Come on over here and FUCK ME," He pulled his pants down and exposed his moon colored ass. "Come ion, Mike! Get your ass over here and FUCK ME! Just stick it right in there."

Franklin averted his eyes. "Trevor, come on, put your ass away!" Trevor ignored the younger man and began shaking his ass as though he were a stripper and began smacking it too. "FUCK YOUR BEST FUCK YOUR BESTIE FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He yelled synchronizing ass slaps with the profanity.

A nurse came in and saw what was going on and her eyes widened and she said, "Um...I'll just come back in a few minutes..."

Trevor finally calmed down and Michael asked, "Are you done?" Trevor pulled his pants up. "No the question is are you done, Michael? This big score was what we'd been dreaming of all these years," He looked at Franklin and said, "Well, us two anyway. And the kid participated but you couldn't predict that Dave Norton or IAA or whatever other fuck wad would turn on us? You were supposed to happily spend the rest of your days drinking until you had kidney failure by the pool. Franklin was supposed to be able to invest his money in legit business and either do whatever he wanted with his time or keep earning and I was supposed to have business as usual."

He took another huge drink of Vodka. "See, I'm a realist and you're a dreamer, Michael. I know this shit aint ending good for any of us. It's a miracle I made it this long like my mother told me. Well, scratch that, Franklin might still have a chance but the two of us are fucked. I accept that but you keep on wanting a way out. Do me a favor, De Santa. Call that little prick and tell him to stop fucking out with our money or find out which government branch is or I will bury my boots up his ass."

He patted Franklin on the back and said, "I gotta run, kid. I got Chef waiting outside. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, buddy. Don't want to see you get killed."

Franklin slapped hands with him. "I'm straight, dog. I'll be out of this bitch in a couple days maybe even today if I'm lucky. You better go see Lamar on the way out or he'll feel left out."

Trevor walked out but as he did he pointed a finger at Dave. "Call him, Micheal. I don't have to be around for it, just get it done."

Michael gazed at the balding man, "What, you don't want him on speaker phone like Lester, before after the shootout at the Kortz center?" Trevor shook his head. "I can tolerate Wheels. If I hear that arrogant piece of shit Norton I'll be unable to stop myself from killing him no matter what the consequences for all of us. He's not as bad a Steve but well, I got to punch Steve's dialysis ticket and I think he's getting a bit lonely in his section of hell. See, without Haines here making Dave the seem like the tolerable one, well Michael's butt buddy just seems to be more and more of a pest."

Michael sighed, "I really don't know why you hate him so much, Trevor. He can be a prick but he's the best of the worst what more do you want?" Trevor said, "Why? I'll tell you why. Maybe it has to do with this email he sent me of him saying it was him who sent me letters from Brad in prison! Maybe you did keep up a lie yourself and maybe I didn't find out until this year and I admit when I found out I went a little crazy your lies in person and the deal from '04 but it was David who kept those emails going and pretended to be him. Whatever bad shit that happened between you and I, that's not anywhere near as cruel as pretending to be Brad."

Michael didn't get what the problem was. "Don't you remember, Trev? You even admitted when we hung out a few weeks ago that Brad was a dick. I admitted I was wrong and you admitted he wasn't that great of a guy so why hold onto grudges?" Trevor explained, "He may have been a dick but he was our dick and he did help us with a lot of robberies. Besides, it's the principal. Dave who killed Brad and who I thought killed my best friend, was playing me and I don't like that. So if you don't resolve this I will."

He began to walk out but Franklin asked, "Hey hold up, man!" He pointed to the bottle. "You forgot your alcohol, bro. Hey tell me something, dude. What was it like clapping Agent Haines? I gotta know man cause you had me booking those Triads but I aint even really know any of them so it was more business than personal but you actually hated Haines just like we all did. You drew the lucky straw."

Trevor let out a high pitched maniacal chuckle. "Let's just say it felt so good I had to change my pants afterwards," He grabbed the bottle and started to head out when the same nurse who had caught his ass baring, a first generation American of Eritrean descent, told him, "Sir, I don't know what went on in there but that's considered public indecency. I won't say anything this time but you could go to jail for that."

As Michael closed the door, he heard Trevor say, "I hear what you're saying sweet heart but did anybody ever tell you, you have the most insanely beautiful eyes I've ever seen?" She chuckled nervously.

Michael called Dave and put it on speaker. "Agent Norton speaking," Michael said, "Dave. I know you already know about the situation with the Union Depository and you've remained cool but enough is enough I need to know did you have anything to do with our funds being drained? My bank account is getting smaller by the day."

Dave chuckled. "What, is the other bundles of cash you robbed from hard working American citizens not enough for you?Even for a robber you should know greed is the easiest way to get busted. For your information, yes. I am behind it. Right now, there is a lot of attention on me. Not just from my show, either. My superiors expect results from the robbery. They know I have a deal with you but that doesn't mean you can keep robbing people. You should have left it at the jewel store. I can honestly say I did drain your account before but now somebody else must be. You are in good standing with us for now due to the amount of help you gave us with the terror threats but Trevor is a menace and Clinton is of no use to us either. We didn't have deals with them. They were just helping you and we did use questionable leverage to force them to help you but technically, they are not entitled to any immunity."

Michael was infuriated by that. "What are you saying to me? You're not going to look out for us?" Dave corrected him. "I won't be looking out for them but you and I have our history. You have a little bit of time since there is no proof that you were the ones behind it. I can try and remove any of your phone records incriminating you in the deaths of Steve Haines and Devon Weston. Since nobody saw you all come out of the tunnel you could have been anybody but there is still an investigation and you are person of interests. That's all I can say on that. Plus there are murder investigations on Devin Weston and Agent Haines as well as the robbery. I can try and bend things to make it look like you had nothing to do with either death but I know you, Clinton and Phillips all had a hand in Weston dying."

Franklin's eyes widened in alarm but Michael held a finger to his lips as he talked. "This is bullshit, Davey. You said we wouldn't have anymore trouble . That phone call, remember?" Dave said, "I realize that, Michael but you have to appreciate the amount of pressure I am under. Not only could I lose my job for as much as I stretched my neck out for the three of you, if the investigation finds I was involved in misconduct I could go to prison myself. I won't sell you out individually but I am done doing favors. At least the kind that would put me under a microscope. I need you to dial it down."

Michael put a hand on his forehead in stress. "Well that's just fucking great, man. Thanks for nothing. After everything I did for the two of you? It may have gone down differently than it should what with Haines dying but that doesn't take away the amount of shit we went through just to keep this country safe. Allegedly anyway."

Dave added, "Also, don't think I'm not aware that was you three in Las Venturas. Not a good move at all and from where I'm sitting, not very subtle either," Michael scoffed. "Well I guess that's what happens when you try and drain our funds or freeze our assets. Don't fuck with my bank account again. Even if you do I can always just have a piggy bank just like my son used to."

Dave warned, "Mr. De Santa I would strongly recommend you do think of your boy and your daughter and wife before you contemplate making anymore stupid moves. I did drain your funds once but you'll notice I did not drain the entire thing I still left you with plenty to retire. All you have to do is invest it. Don't be greedy, Michael. It's not a good quality. I will look into the other agencies we had run ins with and try and be diplomatic about it to find out who, and why."

Michael, before hanging up, said, "Yeah you talk to me about greed, mister G man, but I think you and your superiors are probably draining my bank account and putting direct deposits int yours. Prove me wrong, man."

Michael sighed sitting back down. "You okay, Frank? How you holding up?" Franklin said, "I just found out that I'm a person of interest for murder and robbery. How do you think I'm doing? That's two bombs dropped on me in one day!" Michael decided to be non selfish and ask him what had happened. "Are you okay? Talk to me."

Franklin hesitated but he needed to tell somebody else. "I just found out my dad...he didn't beat on my mom and run out on her. He never laid a hand on her. From what it looks like dude never even knew I existed. No wonder my life is a mess. Maybe if I'd had a dad to teach me things, I'd have gone a different way. Maybe Lamar would have too."

Michael sympathetically told him, "Yeah look...none of us had easy childhoods growing up that much is for sure. Then again, a lot of people that made it didn't either. It's a little late for me and Trevor to be much more than we really are. If we ever had hopes and dreams outside of taking scores, there's not much we can do. Well I mean I am in the movie business now so there is that but with this shit falling on our laps I'm not sure how long that will be a factor."

He took a sip of his drink. "You on the other hand are still young. I know you don't like when i call you kid but to me that's just how young you are. You got your whole life ahead of you."

Meanwhile, Trevor was on his way out of the hospital. He spotted a man tall in height of Mexican origin. He wore a dark blue and white plaid shirt and black dickies plus a black beanie. Trevor recognized him. "Hey I know you. You're that guy I gave a lift to the hospital. You were in pretty bad shape I thought you'd be screwed."

The man thought a minute then said, "Oh that was you? Yeah my homie said it was some random bald guy out of nowhere. Gracias then. They shot the tires out I thought I was dead."

Trevor held a finger up, "Balding not bald. There's a difference and de nada, amigo. They were Aztecas, right? I had a run in with a few of those pricks. If they don't outnumber you ten to one you should be fine. You must be a Vago, right?"

The ma shook his head. "Yes and no. It's complicated. Anyway what's your name? At least would like to know since you got me to the ER in time. Not even Lefty knew your name,"

The drug lord said, "Trevor Phillips. CEO of Trevor Phillips Industries," The man got sort of an uncomfortable look on his face but he said, "Joaquin Avena," Trevor said, "You wouldn't happen to be with that El Salvadoran gang would you?" The man looked like he was tensing up for a fight but asked, "Why?" Trevor said, "Well, I've been on Life Invader and my friend Lamar has a lot of CGF friends who seem to hate you. Relax, homie. I'm sure you probably heard about TPI based on your reaction when I said who we are. I just have a problem with the ones out there not in town. Though I do prefer the dessert to LS."

Joaquin said, "Yeah the're independent from least half of us are US born where as out there a lot of them just crossed into the country. Mara Bunta is Mara Bunta but if you have problems with them that's your business and they can handle themselves."

Trevor chuckled. "Gotta let the younger brothers learn to fend for themselves, eh? Well that's great. Anyway, what's with you and Lamar?"

Joaquin said, "Yeah they do but me and him are cool. We're from opposite sides of the tracks but we're cool but a lot of homies on both sides don't understand that. I was just on my way to go see him."

Trevor held up both hands. "Hell what a coincidence! I was just on my way to see him! I'm sure you know Franklin then too. We can both go see him. It'll be a surprise."

Joaquin looked at him uncertain and then noticed a few police officers walking down the hall. "Shit, I can't right now, man. Fucking puercos. I'm on parole. I'll come back at another time but hey thanks for helping me out," Trevor looked at the gang banger and said, "You sure? Well, hey since you say the Los Santos members of your gang have no problem with us maybe we can do business! After all a business associate of mine is tired f the battles for Blaine County and we could use some extra help at my company so I can have some time off. I'd be willing to pay you for it. Maybe over time, if everything goes okay with your crew maybe the Salvadorans in Blaine will chill out too."

They exchanged numbers.

Two Minutes Later

He dialed Joker's number. "Lo siento, ese I couldn't get to them. I actually ran into Trevor Phillips. He was going to see the same people I was. I guess they know each other, homes,"

Joker was infuriated by this, "You were supposed to kill those two fucking monkeys! Hijo de puta! The two of them are in the same place at the same time. What do you want from me, ese? Plus the cops are there and if I had to deal with Phillips and then them that would be too much heat."

Joker argued, "You have a silenced pistol, fool what's the problem? Joaquin told him, "Yeah but I know Trevor's armed and chances are he isn't. I could probably find and take care of any security cameras that there would have been in their rooms but Trevor likely has a loud gun and that would bring the cops in and I'd have to fight my way out. I don't back down from a fight but I don't even have a vest right now."

Armando was still frustrated, "So what did he say to you? This is a real setback, Snake. Those two who are most definitely probably the guys that killed Chino's cousin, are unarmed and the next time you have a window they probably won't be,"

Culebra told him, "He just said who he was he kind of saved my ass when the Aztecas shot me. He took us to the hospital I wasn't even awake for it. Look maybe I can tail him some way but to kill him right now would be a bit of a dick move. If the war continues we will finish him but for now we have to wait. He knows I'm Mara Bunta but he seems to think that the LS homies are not connected to Blaine County. That was what I wanted him to think. So he didn't show hostility to me but he did try to insist we go see the two Family putos together. Look, A, I know you fought in a war too but I was in one more recently and that is not tactical having a three way shoot out with no vest."

Armando sighed. "I'll have Casper call you. He's the man in charge in Blaine County. He won't want to wait but try and get his opinion."

Culebra agreed. "Fine by me. By the way, Joker I know it's just an expression but if you ever refer to my mom as a bicth or me as a son of a bitch again, shot caller or not, I'll kill you."

A few minutes after he hung up, he did get the call. He picked it up and to his surprise it was a three way call between Casper and Martin Madrazo. "Casper, Mr. Madrazo. I didn't know you two knew each other/'

Casper said, "Your homeboy told me what the deal is. I get you don't want to hurt Trevor or kill him and maybe you['re right that may not be tactical right now but we do need to send a message even if we don't kill him. Or hold off on killing him that is. See, Mr. Madrazo knows Oscar Guzman and so do you but most of us don't know him. You knew him before our pedo with him."

Martin also spoke, "Yes, Mr. Avena. I have had a sit down with our mutual friend Oscar and he says he will consider it. Considering Blaine County is as much my territory as his if not more he really has no choice but to cut you in if i say so. Casper is right it would not be tactical to kill his business partner right now but you must have an edge on competition while they are still competition."

Culebra said, "All due respect, Senor Madrazo, didn't you make peace with him? Word on the streets was he cut your ear off and you had everybody gunning for him and now you don't. So wouldn't that just piss him off again?"

Madrazos voice raised a bit but he was calm, "Let's not talk of that unpleasant incident! This is not personal but business. Trevor Phillips and his organization is starting to cut into my own interests. It bests suits me and my organization if he does not know I am helping you beyond what I have set up with course, I too will be there along with the Los Santos Vagos to act as a neutral party between Guzman and Phillips and you Mara Bunta members. I am afraid however that in spite of your recent alliance with the Lost motorcycle club, even if Trevor can be persuaded to keep the peace with you, he will not have a deal with the Lost."

Joaquin agreed. "Orale. What did you guys have in mind?" Madrazo said, "I am having one of my men pick you up. We will follow Trevor Phillips and see if we can see a weak link. We must be discreet. You will attack them but only once he has left the area."

Casper also added, "Yeah and even if this does turn out to be our last hit against Trevor Phillips at least until the time comes to kill him, we need to be careful. We don't want too much blow back on ourselves."

Senora Road

3:41 PM.

Trevor Phillips was on his way back to Sandy Shores with Chef. "So how was our friends, boss?" Trevor said, "He's great, Chef. You really should have come in and seen him. He's a good kid. I mean that. As for Michael...ah I don't know. He's a little too loyal to that FIB agent even after all we've been through."

Chef nodded and said, "Yeah, well I hate the no smoking rule. Anyway, what about that FIB agent? Your friend is still working with that guy? Man, things are so much simpler out in the country. The robbers are robbers and the law is the law. No mixing of the two."

Trevor corrected, "Apart from what we have to pay to bribe the local yokel authorities that is. Plus the cops raid people all the time that makes them robbers. Other than that you're right. The county is much more simple than this complex twisted town. I mean I like weird but L.S. is too weird even for me!"

Chef pointed out, "Brother, how long have we known each other? You do like it to a point. You obviously like the seedier side of town. The ghetto. Strawberry. You and that Franklin kid and his friend."

Trevor inhaled, through his nose like an angry bull. "I will admit that...the ghetto is a part of town more suited to what I consider paradise. What's not to love? Drugs, gun fights, prostitution? A general distrust of society as a whole? It's a lot like Sandy Shores when you look at it that way. It's just the superficial turds in Michael's part of town I fucking hate. Rockford Hills, Morningwood, I fucking hate those yuppie pricks."

He headed north and said, "I guess meeting that boy has made me see a side of this place I could never see before. That under all the botox and the plastic knockers and prescription drugs and kale diets under the surface of this city's image there are real people just like you and me. Hell, Lamar snorts coke and does oxy. Good kid!"

Trevor's cell phone rang and he got a distressed look on his face ans he looked at the caller ID. He sighed. "What is it, Trevor? What's eating ya?" Trevor hesitated. "Come on, Trevor you can tell me. I'm one of your best guys. I mean, fuck, you, me, Wade and Ron. We're pretty much family."

Trevor decided to spill it. "All right! All right...it's Patrica Madrazo,"Chef raised his eyebrows. "That Mexican psycho's wife? What does she want?" Trevor said, "You do remember I love her, right? I don't know, man. She's been calling me behind her husband's back. It's a fucked up thing I know I mean I kidnapped her and we fall in love with each other? Even before I took her though I knew we had chemistry. Some times you just know."

Chef whistled. "Forbidden love is a deadly thing, bro. Seriously. What are you gonna do? Screw around with her? Kill Martin? Trevor denied it. "No. As much as I would like to she respects the sanctity of marriage and strangely enough so do I."

Chef was confused, "Wait didn't you actually fuck another man's wife at some hotel in the ghetto?" Trevor shrugged off what he said. "That was different the guy wanted me to fuck her. If it's agreed upon but a couple I don't see how it's infidelity! I had to end up killing that guy because he had me do some jobs for him regarding a rival's real estate and he tried to frame me for it and have me take the fall in the end. This is different. Her husband treats her like shit but I can't just kill him. She'd never forgive me! If she leaves him she has to do that on her own terms."

Chef pointed out, "She'll never do that. She's Catholic, isn't she? Most of them are. They take marriage seriously."

Trevor said a little too loudly, "Maybe! Well she is I'm not too sure about Martin. He did have that weird Aztec stuff for fertility these statues. Sounds pretty pagan to me, actually. Like Pre Colombian. That makes me wonder even more why they're together. Different religions are a conflict of interests.

Chef said , "A lot of them mix the old Aztec religions and deities with Catholic saints and symbols. There's a whole bunch of sad history I could tell you about that. Me and Ron discussed what kind of shit the lizard men did to found this country."

Trevor let the call go without picking up. "She seems to think I'm a good man, Chef. Maybe she really does have shitty taste in men. When you look at me and Martin we're not so different in the way that we both run drug organizations, we both are affiliated with Oscar Guzman, and we're both a couple of murdering lunatics but I would never...ever...treat a woman the way he does. If he's not Catholic he sure did inherit some of their patriarchy!" He had raised his voice as he often did. "I'm not a good man, Chef. I might be loyal, I might be hard to kill but good is not a word I'd use. My own mother is ashamed of me!"

Chef told him, "No disrespect at all to your mother," He knew he was on thin ice just even talking about the man's mom. "But on that she's wrong. You're a successful businessman. You're living the life of a kingpin. It's what rappers talk about it's even what little kids that watch too many shitty movies want to do. You could have any woman you want. A fucking whore like Michael's wife or any of the number of skanks that guy Franklin's been with at the Unicorn. I know you have too but you're just blocking out that void in your heart. With or without Patricia Madrazo there is good in you, Trevor."

Trevor was on the verge of sobbing. "Fuck! You're just saying that, Chef! Cause you think you have to," Chef shook his head. "I'm not blowing smoke up your ass. Don't take this the wrong way but unlike Ron and Wade I aint scared of you. I'm not. You wouldn't hurt us without just cause. I have no reason to be."

Trevor sniffed, "What about Michael and Franklin? They both may have been with superficial whores, girlfriend and wives alike but they both love the women in their life too. Franklin loves some girl from his old neighborhood and Michael loves Amanda. They're not different from me in that sense."

Chef held up a finger, "Yeah that's true but...how do I put this delicately...Franklin and your old pal, Mike. Their girls. They're both lookers, right?" Trevor guessed, "Amanda is. She used to be a stripper. Franklin, I can't see him dating an ugly chick. Where are you going with this?"

Chef told him, "Well you look past her looks and you see her for her true beauty inside. Many people say love is blind regarding dating other nationalities or religions but they would usually never date an unattractive person. You put those three words to life in the realest sense."

Trevor said, "Are you calling her ugly, Chef? You and I have been friends a while and that's not a good road to go down," Chef back tracked. "No I was just saying I don't find her attractive and many might not but to you she is. You love her for who she is. You see her as beautiful regardless of how anybody else feels. That in itself is beautiful, man!"

Trevor thought about it and then said, "I appreciate sentiment, Chef but that still doesn't make me a good person. If even my own mother thinks I'm a failure I have to be! Do you have any idea of how it feels to be rejected by your mother?" Chef shook his head. "Can't say I do, man. My folks died when I was too young to remember them much. The other kids at the children's home was my family. That plus you. Seriously I have you notified as my emergency contact."

Trevor whistled. "That sucks, man. Well anyway, my mother I tried to impress her but I couldn't., Nothing I ever do is good enough!"

Chef disagreed. "That's not true, Trevor. You're on your way to the top. Eventually she'll have to recognize that."

Trevor growled in a defensive tone, "Whatever. Can we just be quiet and listen to the goddamn radio?"

Grand Senora Desert

7:14 PM

Preemptive Strike

It was getting dark. As promised Martin Madrazo had one of his men fly him and Casper out. They were following the red truck all the way from LS County. He had been called Snake due to being one of the few Mexicans who was tall long and narrow due to his Mohawk side of his heritage but also due to being mean against his enemies, his strikes resembling a cobras bite. However now his nickname had a different meaning. The deceitful kind.

He was about to hit Trevor Phillips in his own town after talking about making peace. The meeting with Oscar had been set for Saturday. It wasn't like he had know all the homies in Blaine County killed by Phillips only some of them but the rules of gang warfare meant he had to hit back. Retaliation was an obligation. He had to keep Joker, Casper and Martin happy. Yet all three wanted to be discreet. He had it all planned out.

Joaquin asked, "You sure about this, Casper?The man's meant to be crazy and very hard to kill. Nobody's managed to yet. Pissing him off could start an even bigger war than before!" Casper said over the whir of the Maverick's blades, "And it will but not with us. Just focus on getting the job done. Worry about the why later."

They watched as the red truck pulled up at a store Liquor Ace. The passenger in the truck, got out. He went up into the store but he looked up at the chopper. The truck waited a minute and then began to drive off. They followed him, Joaquin steering the bird after him trying to not draw attention but it was hard to maintain a low profile with a helicopter.

The man pulled up to his trailer minutes later and went inside and then emerged with an RPG. Joaquin turned the chopper around and headed away. The man yelled, "You better run you pricks! FIB cock suckers!"

Culebra brought it over to the liquor store. The cartel man was co pilot but now Casper took control. "Okay, start dropping these redneck putos!" Joaquin had an H&K PSG1. He aimed at one of the seven bodyguards on the roof of the store. He drew a bead one man, a Caucasian male with long blonde hair except the top of his head which was balding. The man was ugly and wore a Confederate flag T shirt. Joaquin fired and hit him in the jaw. The bullet tore his jaw bone apart r blowing it apart in a chunk separate from the rest of the skull.

The guards all had Assault Rifles and they began firing up at the maverick. Culebra fired hitting the next man, an obese white male with curly brown hair under a Blaine County truckers cap who also wore a red flannel shirt and dirty denim jeans. The round tore into his fat stomach.

The man held the wound and fell over the side of the roof. Culebra fired shot after shot as the guards returned fire, the bird circling as he did. Thirty seconds later they all were dead except the male passenger that had exited Trevor's was firing his M4 up at them. "W're taking hits, J! Take that asshole out!" Yelled Casper. Culebra fired and shot the man's right hand. The round tore his hand apart going through bone, tissue and muscle leaving a huge hole in it.

He screamed and retreated inside still managing to hold onto the Rifle. "Take me down I'm gonna extract some Intel from this tweaker!" He was and he jumped down. The cartel man that worked for Martin shouted from the cock pit, "Oye! Take this with you! What you do with it is your choice as long as it doesn't end up back on our door step!"

He tossed a can of gold spray paint. Joaquin went inside past the body littered roof. He went inside and spotted a plain wall so he did the hit up really quickly. `He followed a blood trail downstairs. He had his pistol on him too. The man fired blindly from cover at the bottom of the steps. He came down and fired hitting the guy in the right knee cap and he put another round in the man's calf guy howled with pain and Joaquin fired a shot into his good hand.

He then rushed him and forced him to walk or rather limp upstairs. "Come on you fucking chavala we're going for a ride!" The bald man groaned, "Trevor...will make you wish...you were ever born for this..." Joaquin hit him with the Rifle in the back. "Keep moving!"He had also made a makeshift bob using just a few pierced a hole in the can with his knife and had rigged up a fuse. He tossed it downstairs. He knew the fire would reach the whole building and explode when it got to the part of the building used for meth.

They were soon back in the air and Joaquin hung the man out by his apron and began punching him. "You're going to tell me where the rest of the cook shops are? We know Trevor Phillips Industries can't just only have one of these cook shops!" He knew there was more as he and Joker and Indio had in fact raided one of them but he wanted the locations of more of them.

The meth cook groaned in pain but his anger gave him strength. "Go fuck yourself. I aint telling you shit!" Joaquin squeezed the wounds in his hands intentionally pressing the bullet wounds. He howled, "ARGHHHHHHHH! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Joaquin punched him five times in the face. "Last chance. You sure you don't want to talk?" Chef spat in his face. Joaquin sighed. "Orale. Suit yourself. Any last words?"

The man was defiant to the end. "Suck my dick," Joaquin grinned. "If only there were time," With that he let the man fall from the chopper as they were about fifty to sixty feet in the air. The man crashed through the roof even above the lower part of the roof that gave people inside the building access. He fell through it. Joaquin looked down and hollered to Casper, "Get us out of here! Vamanos!"

Five Minutes Later

Trevor arrived to see the bottom floor had some flames behind the counter. He grabbed the extinguisher and put it out dousing it until it went out. It was good he had caught it in time because this place blowing up would have been a huge set back. He examined what the bomb had been. It was from a can o spray paint. Trevor frowned. Whoever had done this was resourceful Chef had said it was men from the helicopter that had been tailing them. Around one shoulder he had his RPG. On the other he had an AK-47.

He walked up the stairs following a blood trail. He has seen the dead body of one of the guards they had hired outside. He came looked out and saw the dead bodies littering the roof. He spotted a golden tag on the wall. It read Varrio Los Aztecas.

Trevor thought darkly, Ortega...even beyond the grave that prick has a lot of reach. Trevor then spotted his friend, Chef laying there, bloodied and broken, crimson dampening and darkening his white apron. He rushed to his side. "Jesus! What happened?!"

Chef coughed up blood. "Same assholes in the chopper...they came back...the bastard wanted to know where the other cook shops are...I tried to fight him Trevor...I did. He got me..."

Trevor was panicking. "Just hang on, buddy. We're going to get you some help.I'm going to find that cocksucker and feed him his own balls!" Chef coughed more blood up and Trevor listened his his chest. He had a collapsed lung. "Damn it Trev...I can't feel anything below my waist and breathing hurts...I'm pretty fucked up..."

Trevor began to doial 911. "Hang on," As he started to dial the first one, Chef's bloody hand stopped him grabbing his wist. "No...I don't want to live like this...even if they were to save me...I'd just be a cripple...or worse...like that guy Angus...in the Lost...I don't want that. Yu've got o help me here."

He handed Trevor his sidearm. A 9mm. "Finish me quick..."

Trevor blinked back tears. "I'm not going to kill you Chef. That's crazy."

Chef coughed up more even hacking some up on Trevor. The dealer didn't react to it. "Chef...I can't...!" Chef told him, "I'd do it for ...it's not murder. I'm asking you to..."

Trevor looked at him, tears rolling down. He then held Chef's hand and Chef nodded at him one last time to do it. "It's all right."

Ron was waiting outside in the truck having come along from the trailer when Chef had called. Trevor had said to keep the engine running. Just then, he heard a single shot.

Okay so on that note I ended it on a darker tone. The death scene between Chef and Trevor was based on Danny Trejo's death in Heat. Plus Carlos's in Saints Row. Also, the way he was killed is a reference to the fact that in Meth'd up in online the player can kill Chef after killing bodyguards but it won't affect the events of GTA V. That plus the mission Blog This in which Luis Lopez intimidates the Celebrinator in a similar way.

As for the shootout with the Families and Joaquin, he killed them but did not use ethnic slurs this time because in Tale Of The Troubleshooter, Troy, while he is racist towards Mexicans, made racist remarks before and after shooting Mara Bunta members but not during however he did when killing Vagos. I figured I'd do a thing too reflecting that from the brownside.

The reference to Troy possibly skipping town is my own way of nodding to I think Zane must be on hiatus and has bailed again on his own story. I'm not mad but I can't slow down the progress of my story just to wait for him to catch up so I'm not sure about this collaboration. I mean I did put Cross Fire out the same way but at least I deleted it so as not to give fans the wrong idea. I mean what else am I supposed to do?

As for the scene where Trevor took Michael saying fuck you too literally, that is a reference to the movie Freddy Got Fingered one of my fav scenes where Tom Green tells Rip Torn that and gets the same reaction I was like WTF and it seems like something Trevor would do since he takes mother fucker too literally.

Trevor will not find out for a while Joaquin was behind the death of Chef but when they do have their own father son bond similar to Franklin and Michael's and Joaquin takes Son Of A Bitch personally in the same way Trevor takes Mother Fucker literally.

As for the slang, the word Dispensa is like the cholo way to say "My bad" also that scene with Chino speaking at Esteban's grave was from the beginning of Chino Grande's song I Remember You Homie. He said those exact words. Plus the mission name Standing By Your Grave is a song by Brownside just like RIP by them is I recommend checking them all out.

Also the scene with the torture was on Hao's part from Crank 2 High Voltage in which MS-13 tortured a member of the Triads and the same dialogue was used between them was from it. The torture of Leroy was based on a real life instance where the Surenos did that to a Blood.

Oh also Uno is based on Sebastian Lobo. The Suck My Dick exchange from Chef was based on an episode of Oz. Also the tag for VLA being gold/orange is a reference to how the VLA tag in SA was gold even though their colors were blue so gold is a color to them even though blue s their main one and Vagos wear light blue along with gold and black. MBG, Vagos and VLA all wear blue a reference to how they may fight but all are based on Surenos.

The fact that they didn't give the San Fierro Rifa (Nortenos) a different color though must have been laziness. Also I wanted to ask do you think that mission Mrs.. Phillips was his mom really there or just a hallucination? She could have been one or maybe she just left but either way it would have broke him in half.

Anyway, that's all for this chapter let me know what you think and since it took so long to write please leave a big review.