Chapter IX

With very little interaction between him and Michael. There had been much to Marcello's bewilderment. He had been more at ease knowing what Michael had done to assure Sasha's safety thus far and speaking the truth about Aldrick. Gears were turning on confronting the upcoming danger. Tommy would most certainly get himself involved.

"So... Aldrick offered an opportunity to you and he gave you a window to debate if you would? Have you accepted his offer?"

"I told him it would be considered, but knowing he ran me out of Los Santos once already. You can't blame me when I express... mutual hatred about the man. He won't stop at nothing if he is targeting Lance Marston's Heirlooms. There's no doubt in the back of my mind that Sasha will be placed in harms way. His heist, should he get someone talented as myself? Aldrick targets the Vercetti Dinner Party."

"Always with the fireworks. Aldrick." Marcello spoke to himself, shaking his head. "I thank you for your information, Mike. I'll inform Tommy and prepare the others who might attend. I suggest you do the same with the cash I gave you. Please. We already lost a close friend of ours. Tommy most certainly won't accept another dying under his watch. Your services will be greatly needed within the Vercetti Family."

Michael had watched Marcello increase his pace until he was out of eye sight. It was now a confirmed stance that Michael knew his place within the Vercetti Family. He had officially been hired by Tommy through Marcello. Becoming Sasha's Bodyguard. Stashing his newly found cash, Michael had just a few more tasks to run before returning to Sasha.

Knowing it would take time, Michael took out his phone to text Sasha. "Hey. I hope you're all right." Sent.

The main question that Michael kept asking himself was... How long before his family found out? He had to tell them the truth, but what if he had gave them the basic details? It wouldn't be secrecy. It could be very basic. Knowing previous events, secrecy within the DeSanta Family wouldn't bode well for anyone.

Sasha had to become the center of his attention. Her life was in his hands. This had changed the whole game in Michael's eyes. If Lester would tell Aldrick of Michael's rejected offer then Aldrick wouldn't blink twice at hiring another. This meant Michael needed to get a stash of his own and give preparation time with Sasha. Even if she knew how to handle a pistol.

Prep-work meant one thing: Equipment. Bullet-Proof Vests. Spare weapons. All that was necessary to fend off the first major encounter. Then from there Michael was sure that Tommy would take the reins. There was a high price on Sasha's head for those heirlooms. Their only problem wasn't the Vercetti Family.

It was Michael DeSanta himself.

Running through a mental checklist, Michael remember seeing an Ammu-Nation down on Morningwood Boulevard . No shooting range, but that would be a concern on another date. First he knew setting everything up and getting a layout of his surroundings was important. Michael needed to find a few hiding places in Sasha's Penthouse. The best way to plan for an ambush was to plan a better strategy against the opponent.

Driving down through Morningwood Boulevard Michael had no concern over his finances. Luckily Amanda wouldn't track those payments. It's not that he wanted to keep this a secret. He just needed time to process everything. With the help of Marcello's Bonus. This was just the first big step in personal home security.

Entering the Ammu-Nation, the owner had greeted him. "Hot damn a customer. I was starting to believe that America was dead, my friend. What can I help you find?"

"Hey. How's it going? I was possibility looking for something that suits my needs? Artillery that could be discreet and pack a punch."

"You can't be discreet and pack a punch. If you want to be effective."

"Then what do you personally recommend?"

"Well, my friend. If you're going to be dealing with the opposing enemy? Protection is just as important as firepower. Shotguns would be your best bet for damage. Close range preferred."

"That sounds about right. How about something that's more discreet? Maybe something you can quick draw?"

"Revolvers are always a classic. My honest opinion? Just as long as you don't buy a heavy pistol like your standard Desert Eagle then any pistol can be quick and discreet. It's all a matter of skill and talent. Unless you want something completely quiet... then the runner-up would be a Silenced .22 Pistol..." The owner's voice had faded as he observed his inventory. Searching through cabinets and glass displays.

As the owner had put various models on the counter, Michael was no stranger to the basic pistol and combat pistol. "Honestly I don't think extended clips are going to make me appear discreet. I need something I can keep on person."

"Then you're looking for the AP Standard Pistol. Not only would it clip through your opponent's armor should they have any, but it doubles it capacity of a single clip with several extra rounds. Otherwise it's the Stun Gun that gets the most attention for being discreet. Those would be your best bet."

Michael had swiped up the AP Pistol, cocking back the barrel and checking its sights. "If this was capable of being discreet... I'm assuming you can fit the barrel with a standard suppressor?"

"If you desired so, yes."

"Well that's one down. Care to share your shotguns with me?"

"Can't suppose to sell you a Musket?" The owner laughed at his own terrible joke. "Any Sawed-Off Shotgun can give you extra damage without much range. Assault Shotguns are more about handling crowds."

"Never hurts to have the upper advantage." Michael had briskly interrupted the owner. "I'll have that and your standard Pump-Action Shotgun if you have one available. I know those can be quite on the popular side."

"Sounds like a purchase, my friend. I appreciate your business!" The owner had commented. "For you how about I throw in a Stun Gun and a specially discounted melee weapon such as a Nightstick or a Knife? Something for Closed Quarters Combat?"

"The Nightstick should be the wiser choice. I'll be breaking in a few kneecaps if at all necessary."

Along with the purchases of a few Bullet-Proof Vests... Michael snatched himself up a few extra boxes of ammo. It was better to be ahead of the game. No matter what Aldrick might had in store for him. Packing his car and going over the mental checklist, he had again pulled out his phone to check and see if Sasha had texted.

Nothing.

There should have been a text from her by then. It was actually making Michael a little concerned. "Sasha. Are you there?" Hoping she would respond. Michael had even taken a moment to catch his breath before going about his own business.

"Just one more task." Michael reminded himself as he headed back towards Rockford Hills.

Michael had to head home. Even if the job he had been offered was completely disconnected. His family would be worried sick if he didn't at least deliver the half truth to comfort their stress. Someone would have to be home. Amanda needed to know not to worry if he hadn't been home everyday.

Though there had been great hesitation on Michael's end when trying to just give the basics. At least he was going to see his family. Pulling into his driveway, there was no car parked from Amanda. She wasn't home, but from second glace it seemed Tracey might. Parking in his garage, Michael strolled into his house where he had found Tracey watching Fame or Shame.

"Hey, Trace. Your mother home?"

"Hey, Pop. Nope. She's out shopping. As per usual." Michael was sure that Amanda was spending his money no doubt. Old habits die hard.

"How's work treating you? The family noticed that you haven't been home." Tracey mentioned.

"Yeah. Uh. I got a new ... unique business opportunity." Michael said, rubbing the back of his neck."Nothing too serious. Just someone seeking out my talents."

"Don't you mean your criminal ways? What are you planning? Another heist?"

"Nah. Nothing like that." Only if him and Tracey had been on the same wave length. He joined her on the couch. "Listen, Trace. I might be pretty scarce around the house. Let your mother know? Not like she would or not. Just relay the message to her?"

For once maybe Michael had got his wish, Tracey giving her dad undivided attention. She took notice of his distraught. Something had most certainly been off kilter with her dad. "Look, Daddy. You're great at what you do. I'm sure the majority of us would be alive without you. If you got a business opportunity. Then I'm sure you'll take any task asked of you head on."

"I can at least promise you that I'll stay safe." Michael had assured.

"Even if you promise. Mom is still going to totally freak out. We all know how much she'll stress if something dangerous takes place."

"Yeah. I know. I'll still call her frequently. I just don't care about what she might think about this opportunity."

"What makes it so important anyway?"

This actually got Michael to laugh. Anguish had taken hold. "How about if I figure it all out or am capable of processing ... I'll see if I can piece it all together and revisit that viewpoint with you?" He pulled his daughter close, kissing her forehead.

"Okay, Daddy." Tracey agreed. "I'll relay your message for mom."

"Thank you, Trace. I love you."

Tracey rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Yeah. I love you too, Dad."

With that small pleasant exchanged, Michael left his living room and climbed his stairs to reach his bedroom at the end of the hallway. Having walked directly into his closet, he dug for a duffel bag. Most certainly having a spare laying around. He wasted little to not time gathering all his essentials. While in-between checking to see if Sasha had texted back.

Taking a moment, Michael had sent one last text. Knowing well he would return to the Diamond Casino in under an hour. "Hey I'm worried. You're not responding. I'll be there soon."

Sasha was the Vercetti Golden Child. Not through intentional means, but by association. To think none of this would be taking place if Lance didn't gift Sasha with The Marston Family's Precious Heirlooms. How could one place into words. Perhaps it was good timing that Amanda wasn't home. Rather keep it simple versus a babbling idiot.

There had been no excuse to expose Sasha to Amanda and explain how he magically got involved with the Vercetti Family. That's all it was after-all: Magical Thinking. Michael needed to do everything in his power to avoid their paths being crossed. At all costs. For the safety of everyone involved he needed to keep his family separate from this job until everything would calm itself. There had been enough stress. This was going to be extremely difficult.

Keeping watch until the coast was clear had Michael practically trot down the main stairs and cut through the middle section what connected the kitchen and the front entrance. Taking an extra second to assure his duffel bag was secure to meet his next primary objective. Michael heard his phone ring shortly after.

Picking it up without fail, Michael answered without looking at the number. "Sasha? Are you there? I'll be at the Penthouse shortly. I had to stop by home for a few essentials."

"That's greatly appreciated, Mr. DeSanta. However I think it's about time we had a moment to introduce each other." The voice on the other end being male.

Michael glanced at his phone. Another unknown number. How were these people calling him without getting his number from him personally? "Listen, pal. I've got a job opportunity with another employer. I'm not interested in another job currently."

"I certainly hope so, Mr. DeSanta. This is your employer speaking. I wish to speak on mutual terms and not let others speak for me. I think it's incredibly rude. I have more class than that."

Michael remained silent. The man on the other end was the legend himself.

Tommy Vercetti.