A few of days had passed, which saw Luis doing a few driving jobs for Veron – one of them chauffeuring someone else around. Now Luis stood in Middle Park, looking at the hotel across the road, considering his options.

Veron had let slip about the hotel's security. Luis wasn't going to get up to any of the floors without leaving some sort of trail. He could either rent a room – but at several thousand a night, that was out of the question. Alternatively, he could try to enter from the roof, but he didn't want anyone else knowing what's going on, and he certainly wasn't about to allow a helicopter to crash. That left a brute force attack – charging in will probably get him shot, or arrested.

But Luis did have one idea. He crossed the street, wearing his suit, and walked in to the hotel's foyer. He walked straight towards the elevators and paused a few feet from them. He fished into his jacket and pulled out his cell. He feigned a phone call and began talking. A moment later the elevator doors opened and Luis stepped inside as a woman stepped out. The trick here, Luis thought to himself, was to look like he belonged. No one would stop him unless he was skulking around, or looking around suspiciously.

The elevator doors closed and Luis felt the surge as the mechanics worked against gravity. He adjusted the gun in his jacket and took a breath.

Niko had been given the warehouse. It was slightly reminiscent of the ambush Dmitri had set up two years ago, and Niko had armed himself well. He wore body armor under his suit, which felt heavy and tight and restricted movement, and had two MP5s under his jacket, along with his Desert Eagle. He also had a few grenades, and a stubby shotgun attached to a homemade sling that hung on his back, also under his jacket.

He wasn't afraid – he'd been doing this long enough to not fear death or pain – but he was at least apprehensive. Most of all, though, he was concerned his target may escape out the back. He'd set up a little trap there first – a fine wire connected to a couple of Flash bangs. Anyone who fled out the back door would get a nasty surprise.

It was the front door that Niko now stood by, his body pressed against the wall. He held his two MP5s and took a breath. He kicked open the door.

Luis was walking down the hallway, having successfully chatted up a maid to get past the security door. He had plenty of time, so he'd allowed himself a little… entertainment with her. Now she limped back to work, and Luis strolled down the hallway towards the target room.

There were bodyguards, of course, and they had clocked him the second he'd come into view. One of the men turned his head to watch Luis, the other either using his eyes, or looking in the opposite direction. Likely the latter, Luis thought, in case this was a distraction.

He'd taken a security card from the maid's pocket, while her clothes were on the floor. He used that to open the door next to the target's room, allowing himself to look at the guards. He offered a nod as he entered the room. The guard did not return it.

The second the door shut, Luis's gun was out. He cleared the room, thankful to find it empty. He'd half expected to see a bodyguard or two in here, but he was lucky.

The idea had come to him as he stared up at the building from the park. Most of the rooms facing the park had balconies – at least the ones above the fourth or fifth floor did.

Happy that no one was in the room, Luis stepped out to the balcony. He looked out at the park, acting like a tourist taking in the sights, in case anyone saw him. He looked around, and saw that he was alone.

He turned to face the neighboring balcony and climbed onto the railings. He took a breath and jumped awkwardly to the next balcony. He drew his gun and pinned himself up against the wall, in case anyone heard him.

Somebody did hear him, and a lone man stepped out. He turned and walked towards Luis. As soon as he was out of view of the windows, Luis grabbed him, plunging the gun to the man's head. He also pushed the man against the railings, leaving the top half of the man's body hanging in midair. There was no way this man could struggle and take Luis's gun, at least without falling to his death.

"How many?" Luis whispered. "And I'll warn you, don't try to lie. My employer has files on all of you, and knows who you all are. If I die here today, or you lie to me, your entire family will be killed. We are not the good guys, so don't doubt us."

Luis had to give credit to the man. He was not scared – at least not noticeably so. He seemed more irritated, but he gave the information up: Three more, plus Veron. Luis nodded and broke the man's neck. Then he approached the French windows.

Niko burst through the door, both guns up seeking targets. He fired one burst with one gun, then thrust the other one out and fired. Then he rushed for cover. As expected, the entire warehouse erupted in gunfire. Men shouted and others replied with equal volume.

Many would feel out of depth in this situation – a dozen, perhaps more, military-trained men shooting at them – but Niko remained calm. Sure, there was the adrenaline, enough to keep his vision sharp and his reactions warm, but he was calm, his breathing steady. He hadn't felt panic since the war.

He reached over his cover with his right hand, and fired the MP5 blindly. Then he popped his head up, took a quick look around and settled back down. He checked his guns.

Niko jumped up, using his cover to lean on, and fired. One man fell, then another. Bullets hacked away at the floor and his cover, but none hit him. He fired again, to his left. To his right. Up on a catwalk. He then ran, sidestepping like a soccer player during warm-up, gun's seeking targets, and firing. He reached a pillar and took cover behind it before darting to the next. His prey would be upstairs, in the small office. He had to get there before his prey made a run for it…

Part of the wall next to him exploded, showing Niko with shards of concrete. He felt the skin on his face tear as a tremendous crack echoed throughout the warehouse.
"Sniper," he snarled. He risked a look round the pillar and spotted the man – in the office, rifle hanging out a broken window. He withdrew his head a millisecond before the next shot came.

Niko was gauging the distance to the sniper when something hit him in the chest. Hard. He looked up and saw the shooter, fired off a quick burst then looked at his chest. No blood. The pain was only impact injury – nothing to worry about.

Niko risked another glance, a quick bounding nod. The sniper fired again, and this time Niko felt the air fracture as the bullet whizzed past his head. Niko dropped the gun from his right hand.

Then Niko made his move. In an eerie lull of gunfire, the sound of the metal ring hitting the floor seemed loud.

One…

More gunfire came at him, but none could reach.

Two…

Niko took a deep breath.

Three…

Niko caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone had flanked him, their gun coming up.

Four!

Niko broke from cover, throwing the grenade toward the sniper. At the same time he dove to his right as the flanking man fired.

Niko landed in a roll as the bullets embedded themselves in the floor. The grenade exploded as he pressed himself against the next pillar, sending debris out across the warehouse.

Niko heard some screams – from whoever was hit by the debris, or perhaps the

grenade's blast itself. He stepped from cover, gun up, and fired.

There was a loud explosion from the back of the warehouse. Someone had tried to run and encountered his trap. He turned his gun towards them, and quickly took them down, not even breaking his stride.

As he reached the stairs, the gun clicked empty, Niko heard that, but his right hand was already coming out with his shotgun. The MP5 clattered against the floor as Niko's foot touched the first step.

There were only a few men left upstairs. The target, Niko could see, was still in the office. It looked like he had run back in there after the Flashbangs had gone off.

Niko fired the shotgun once at the first man who challenged him, firing wildly and missing.

He fell against the railings, dead.

The next guy came at him with a knife. Foolish, Niko thought. He shot him, and the man fell off the catwalk. That left two, including the target.

Niko fired again, and the victim slumped against the half-open door to the office.
Niko dropped the shotgun and pulled his Desert Eagle out. He aimed it through the door at the target who dropped his gun. Niko bent down and pulled the slumped body from the doorway, throwing it single-handedly over the railing.

Niko stepped into the office.

In Johnny's eyes, he had the easiest target. He was hitting him in transit. The man was a fool, Johnny thought. Sticking to cabs, traveling alone.

But also, Karen had insisted, he was not to rock up to him in full convoy with his brothers. She didn't want Star Junction to turn into a war zone.

The target was also lazy – or perhaps complacent was the better word. He took the same route as he had done every time Johnny and Niko had tailed him. Straight down Galveston Avenue.

Johnny stood on the abandoned elevated train tracks, trying to remember when they were ever used, or where they went. Oh well, they were being torn down next week, so who cares?

Johnny used a pair of binoculars to spot the car as it turned off of Kunzite Street. He saw his target in the back.

Perfect.

He pocketed the binoculars and lifted the weight onto his shoulder, stretching his neck as he stood waiting.

The taxi neared.

When it was near enough, Johnny lined the sights and pulled the heavy-set trigger. The whoosh was deafening, and hot. The smoke clouded his vision, but he could see the rocket-propelled grenade fly towards its target.

Two seconds later the taxi exploded fantastically.

Johnny growled and jumped on his bike – a Sanchez, one he knew no brother rode.

Luis fired at the first guard and grabbed the second. The remaining guard didn't return fire though, but his gun was drawn. Luis shot him before he changed his mind. Then he snapped his shield's neck, turning the gun on Veron.
"You never were my driver were you?" Veron asked. For some reason, he didn't have his gun drawn.
"Sorry," Luis said. "But no."
"You're not any of Petrovic's men, unless he's outsourcing now."
"No."
"That leaves…" Veron sighed. "Why would he turn on me? I mean I expected it eventually, but only after everything's done."
"Listen, I don't care…"
"I got to give you credit though. I didn't suspect a thing. You were very cool. You've got to be one of his."
Luis nodded sideways.
"You're very calm for a man who's about to die," he said after a moment.
Veron laughed. "Who said I'm about to die?"

Immediately, Luis thought of the guard on the balcony. He lied!
Luis turned round, his eyes checking the bathroom. Empty.

Luis turned back to see Veron's gun pointed straight at him.
"Shit!"
Luis dove as Veron fired. The gun was loud! His ears ringing,Luis landed in a roll, came up and lunged at Veron, knocking the gun free. He then scrambled toward Veron himself, pulling him into position as a human shield as the door burst open.
The guards, MP5s up stood by the door.
"Let him go," One demanded. He sounded bored.
"Say please," Luis replied.
The man sighed. "Listen son, I'm a former SEAL, this guy ex-Delta. We can shoot these guns and hit a dime on that wall all day long. Let him go, we won't kill you."
"Shit. Okay man, you got me." Luis went to release Veron, but threw him against a desk beside him. "Ah, shit. My bad man, I'm clumsy." Luis picked Veron up, then shoved him toward the guards.

Neither fired – one didn't have a clear line of sight, the other was being knocked over by Veron.

Luis fired, taking down the stumbling guard.
"Oh fuck," Luis said. "I shot your friend. You know I never was a good shot." Luis then shot the other guard, hitting him right between the eyes. "Oh, maybe I am. How about that?" Luis bent down and picked up Veron.
"Now you are about to die. Still feel calm?"
"Fuck you!" Veron spat. "My acquaintances will kill you, but not quick."
"Your acquaintances? Oh you mean the good fellows you've been meeting with?" Luis checked the time. "I'm afraid they've moved on." Veron blinked. "Don't worry bro, you'll see them soon."

Luis shot the man in the head.

Niko had to give the guy credit. Neither he, nor his bodyguard – armed with a street-sweeper shotgun - showed any fear. The target didn't scream, he just fired, without hesitation, hitting Niko in the chest.

Niko stumbled back and fell to his knees, holding his chest. He looked up and let a little air escape. His gun hung beside him then fell to the floor.

The man lowered his gun and approached Niko.
"Don't mess with pros," he laughed.

Niko whispered. "I don't mess with pros…" He then looked up, his head remaining still, his eyes shooting upwards, in that cinematic way. "I kill them."

Niko swung his hand up and grabbed the man's gun, directing it away from him. The man backpedaled, and Niko used the man's retreat to help him to his feet. He threw a knee to the man's stomach, yanking the gun from the man's hand. Niko fired three shots into the man's stomach/chest, cradling him as he did so. He then stood and, from behind the man, shot the bodyguard.

Both men fell to the floor.

Niko checked the target, and put another shot in his head to be sure. He sighed, and shook his head. Then he left.

Luis ran out of the hotel's rear service bay into the alley, cursing as he did so. Out side of Veron's room was another two guards. Luis had no idea where they'd come from, only that he should have backtracked across the balconies.

Worse was the fact that they had fired, and neither of their guns was suppressed. By the time Luis reached the ground floor, armed police were approaching the main entrance.

So Luis had run through the hotel's restaurant and kitchen, eventually coming out via the service area. The police weren't too far behind.

Luis bounded down the alley, zigzagging past garbage cans and dumpsters. He headed south, hoping to lose the cops in the alleys.

He changed direction, turning toward Bismarck Avenue, pulling down a roll-cage trolley full of discarded packaging as he went. It might slow the police down a little, he thought, though it wouldn't stop them.

Luis ran out onto the street, vaulted and slid over a parked car's hood. A taxi blasted its horn and slammed on the brakes. Luis jumped, letting one foot touch the cab's hood, pushing off with it and leaping into the air.

Luis landed in a roll, having jumped over a passing, and rather startled, motorcyclist. He glanced behind him as he ran into another alley, seeing a couple of policemen climbing over the packaging.

Luis broke into a full blown sprint and headed south again. In a few minutes, with the police still behind him, albeit far behind, he reached Pyrite Street.

He ran toward the road and leaped up onto a pile of newspapers.
"Hey! Fuck off you crazy asshole!" the paper delivery guy called out, but Luis had already jumped into – or onto traffic. He jumped across, onto a Cavalcade, and leaped straight ahead, tucking his arms and head in as he did so.
The glass shattered as Luis smashed through. He landed, immediately falling down, like a goalkeeper. It took him a second to scramble to his feet, and he could hear the police shouting. He ran up the stairs.

The police took a moment to realize that Luis had dove through the window. One of the officers carefully climbed through the shattered glass, gun in hand. Another got set to follow as the rest approached the main door.

There was a terrific growl that got the cops confused for a second. Then it registered what it was. An engine revving.

The window above the entrance exploded, as a Turismo leaped through it, like a Tiger leaping for freedom. The cops turned and saw the underside of the car sail over their heads. It hit the floor with a jolt, sparks flying as the gearbox scrapped across the asphalt.

Luis fought to control the car then powered his way out of it, accelerating eastward along Pyrite Street toward, of all places, the Libertonian.

He drifted round the corner, turning south and accelerated but, unfortunately, more cops were now on his tail. Luis cursed, he was sure there were none on this road when he turned onto it. What, had they come out of nowhere?

The chase stretched past the Majestic and down through Star Junction. Luis kept heading south, unsure of where he was actually going. He ended up by the church on Liberty Lane, with four cruisers on his tail now.

Damn, what the hell was Veron, a cop?

Out of the corner of his eye, Luis saw the closed road that led through the Woodworld Building.

Luis spun the wheel and turned onto Diamond street, dodging an oncoming Minivan.
The police followed, but slower and forced into one lane to get past the traffic. Luis floored it and hunkered down. The Turismo tore through the traffic, losing a wing-mirror to a pick-up truck, and sped across Denver Avenue.

The police stopped, not willing to follow as the sports car hit the make-shift ramp and flew through the Woodworld arch. Tourists stopped and looked up in shock and awe. One Japanese tourist even snapped a photo as the car flew over her head.

Luis's vision shook as the car hit the ground. He eased on the brakes, but ended up skidding to a stop in the middle of the Columbus/Diamond intersection. As soon as he could, he straightened out and eased the car down Diamond Street, amidst the oncoming traffic. He then turned down the side street – Amsterdam Lane – and pulled over. He stepped out of the car and ran down an alleyway.

Three minutes later he sat in a cab, turning onto Union Drive East. He kept looking out of the windows for police until they reached the CC bypass. There were none. He didn't relax until he got home.