Saints Row 2 (novelization)
Foreword: Here I am with this one as well. Like I had noted in the foreword for the Saints Row 1 novelization, I will do this concurrently with 1 and 3. I will what I can. I also will note that I will put my own spin on things and regarding what I will do about the gangs, I will decide on how I will do them.
Also, because the Boss/Playa will be based on the SR3 one, I will make up any other dialogue. Why? Because this was before Troy Baker did one of the voices. I'll come up with some stuff.
If you have any questions, leave them in a comment or PM me. Enjoy!
Five years after the bombing of Alderman Hughes's yacht, no one was left alive…except for one man. That man was Vince Shane, a high-ranking member of the 3rd Street Saints. As soon as the bomb was about to go off, he thought ahead, ran and jumped off the yacht as the explosion occurred.
However, in different ways, he wasn't completely lucky. His body was found floating in the water after the explosion, but by strange luck, he still had a pulse and his heart raced quickly. They quickly took him to hospital, but it wasn't just any hospital…
At the Stilwater Prison, a Caucasian guard went on a break and put it on "The Anna Show," a popular talk show. He sat in the break room and watched as the show's host had a special guest, a businessman named Dane Vogel. In the five years that happened since the Saints' rise to power and their immediate fall from grace, three new gangs had formed and/or found their way to Stilwater to fill the voids that any of the previous gangs had left.
The guard had changed channels. Whether it was another news program that had the host and a guest debating how a Stilwater police officer had taken down a gang but seemed to have gone into deep cover as well. As well as news programs talking about the gangs' new presence and what they have done in the years since the big gang war, as well as the demises of Marshall Winslow, Chief Monroe, and Alderman Hughes.
He once again put it on "The Anna Show," where it appeared that the interview with Vogel was drawing to a close. Out of nowhere, an older black guard walked into the break room.
"Hey," the black guard said. The white guard turned his attention towards the other man.
"You'll never guess who has woken up," the black guard said.
The white guard used the remote control to turn off the TV and got to his feet.
"You're shitting me," the white guard said.
"Come see for yourself," the black guard said and gave him the "come on" signal.
"How long has it been?" the white guard said.
"Years, I stopped keeping track a while ago," the black guard said.
"Shit, I can't believe how long it's been," the white guard said.
"Time flies when you're watching someone breathe through a tube," the black guard said.
The two guards exited the break room and walked down a flight of stairs. They had to go see what was in store for them, especially since no one expected anything like this to happen.
"Yeah, yeah, anyway, how's the family?" the white guard said.
"Well, my wife's been seeing an Ultor exec," the black guard said. "And my daughter sits in her room listening to Aisha albums all day."
The black guard punched in a code on a keypad to open a gate, while the white guard ran his nightstick across the bars of said gate.
"For a dead woman, she sure releases a lot of albums," the white guard said.
"No shit," the black guard said.
"God, that was one hell of a year, Alderman Hughes, Mayor Winslow, Aisha, Chief Monroe, that whole damn gang war," the white guard said as he and the guard walked through the halls.
"All of those people, murdered by that asshole who's been on life support on tax payers' money," the black guard said.
The white guard punched in the code on another keypad to open another gate.
"Troy said he wouldn't pull the plug," the white guard said as the two walked through the other gate.
"Lord knows why," the black guard said.
"Has anyone even called the chief?" the white guard said.
"Couldn't reach him," the black guard said. "The press has been flooding him with phone calls."
The two continued to talk as they walked on by with what appeared to be a prison brawl escalating. There had been talk about something big going down that day.
The two walked into the infirmary, the white guard asked a female nurse how the patient was doing.
The nurse replied, "Seeing as he's still breathing after being caught in a massive explosion, I'd say pretty well. It's amazing how he managed to get off the boat in time, but the impact of the blast says otherwise."
"Coming through!" a female voice yelled. The two guards and the nurse looked up and saw a female nurse running and rolling a stretcher with a young man on it, in an orange prison jumpsuit and a purple skull cap.
"What happened?" the nurse said. The other nurse replied that a shanking had occurred. The main nurse told the other nurse to set the stretcher right next to the patient.
"Have they said anything yet?" the black guard said.
"Not yet, but I'm about to remove the bandages off the patient," the main nurse said.
It didn't take long for the nurse to take off the bandages. It was revealed that the patient was Vince Shane, formerly of the 3rd Street Saints. All three people were intrigued. The main nurse noted that he had "healed nicely." Vince looked like he didn't have much burns or scars on his face, but that didn't mean he wasn't burned in the blast, either.
"Be careful, doctor, the patient is dangerous," the white guard said.
The black guard looked directly at Vince in the eye. With a stern tone, he let it out.
"If there's anything you got to say to the judge, now's the time to think about it."
"You're wasting your time," the white guard said, cutting in. "Let's call Troy right now."
Vince lied on his back looking up at the ceiling. He knew that he was responsible for many deaths years prior. There was no way he would be getting out of this. That was until…
"Psst, hey," a male voice with a light Spanish accent said. It sounded like it came from nearby.
The curtain to his right opened. It was the young man from before, who appeared to be Hispanic, probably Mexican or any other nationality from Central America.
"Is it really you?" the young man said. "Are you Vince Shane, also known as 'the Playa'?"
"Do I know you?" Vince said.
"My brother was in the Saints and he told me all about you," the young man said. "I'm Carlos, by the way. Listen, we got to get you out of here."
"Well, I'm sure we ask nicely…," Vince said.
"I know a way out," Carlos said.
"Really? Then why are you still here?" Vince said.
"I heard you were in here and I wanted to bust you out," Carlos said.
Vince looked at him with an expression of "Are you serious?" and then turned his head and dropped it onto the hospital pillow.
"Getting out of here is a two-man job, maybe even more and no one else will give it a try," Carlos said.
"You actually expect me to trust some guy I don't even know?" Vince said.
"Come on, I just got myself shanked so I could get a chance to talk to you," Carlos said. "Doesn't that show I'm loyal?"
Vince replied, "It shows that you're dumb enough to let yourself get stabbed."
"First off, I didn't really get stabbed, I faked it," Carlos said. "Second, I'm trying to help you."
"You know what happened the last time I trusted someone?" Vince said. "I got blown the fuck up."
"You need me on this, trust me and I won't blow your ass up or anything like that," Carlos said.
"The hell I do, I got the Saints," Vince said.
Carlos chuckled. "Sure you do."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Vince said.
"Tell me one thing, how long do you think you've been out?" Carlos said.
"I don't know, maybe two or three weeks?" Vince said.
"Look, I know you think you're a badass, but do you even know you're at?" Carlos said. "Without me, you'll be wandering around the prison for hours. Even if you manage to hide from the guards that long, and if you actually figure out how to make it outside these walls, you're just going to find out that you're sitting on a goddamn island. And I'm sure you can't out-swim the Coast Guard."
"Okay, do you have a boat stashed here?" Vince said.
"No, but I know where we can get one," Carlos said. "Trust me on this."
"Okay, let's get out of here," Vince said.
Much to his own surprise, he was able to get up. It was like he was able to move his body without anybody trying to guide him, and usually it takes time to go through some therapy after waking from a coma. There was no time for that, though. It was time to break out of jail.
Vince saw that a male doctor standing next to a counter. Knowing that if he and Carlos would get out, the doctor will call attention. Vince ran right to him and as soon as he turned around, Vince laid a hard right to his face and grabbed him by the head and drove it to the counter, knocking him out. Carlos told him that they could either sneak out through the front or the roof.
Vince and Carlos headed straight for the main door that the two guards came in through.
"Let's get to the docks, I'll get us out of here," Carlos said. "I can't believe I'm breaking out of jail with you."
"I'm sure everyone wanted to do that," Vince said. "Let's go."
A loud high-pitched sound wailed. Several guards came running towards the two men. Two male guards and one female guard, they had nightsticks. One of them tried to swing, but Vince quickly dodged and delivered a hard punch to the gut. He picked up the nightstick and swung it at the female guard. The other guard, however, attacked Carlos and he dropped from it. Carlos got on the ground but kicked the guard in the leg and as soon as he got to his feet, he delivered a swift kick in between that guard's legs.
As soon as they were all down, the two men saw that the guards were carrying Vice 9 pistols. They immediately went to pick them up, especially since it wouldn't be long until any other guards would be packing heat.
"Do you remember my brother?" Carlos said.
"Probably, I ran with a lot of guys," Vince said. "But maybe, what was his name?"
"His name is Javier Mendoza," Carlos said. "Haven't talked to him lately, though. So are what are you going to do when you get out?"
"How about we get out and not get shot and then we worry about it?" Vince said.
There were two ways to go about it – through the front or through the roof. Knowing that the place would have helicopters flying around, Vince felt that the front would be safer. He led Carlos to a gate that led to another hallway. There was a door to the right. They cut right to the door. As soon as it opened, they were outside, but now some guards and cops have come.
"Shit!" Vince said.
"I know where to go, follow me," Carlos said.
A couple of guards came out wielding Tombstone shotguns. It was clear that they wouldn't survive the shots head on. Vince and Carlos opened fire on the guards. Vince let out a couple of shots to a guard's chest and then a third right to the head. Carlos fired a couple of shots as well. He was lucky that they managed to land, even though they were on limbs. Vince came in and fired a shot to that guard's dome. The two quickly picked up the Tombstone shotguns and went on their way.
Carlos saw a gate that was across the way. The two ran down the stairs. Carlos used the shotgun to fire at any guard who got in his way. Vince still used the Vice 9 and dropped a few guards, as long as he aimed at any vitals or any limbs that what affect their ability to move. As soon as they got to the bottom, Carlos led Vince across the yard where some grass and a big rock was. There was that gate.
"Come on," Carlos said.
One the other side of the gate was a prison bus. The docks were a bit of a distance away. They wouldn't make it if they got there on foot. Vince ran to the cab of the bus and opened the door. Carlos quickly got on. Lucky for Vince, the key was still in the ignition. He started it up and they were on there way.
"How about I drive?" Carlos said. "Keep them off my back."
"You got it," Vince said.
Carlos got in the driver's seat and stepped on the gas and turned to head down the road. He was not about to stop for nothing. He quickly made a turn onto the slope. A lot of cop cars were blocking the road.
"Hold on a sec," Carlos said and stomped hard on the gas. Even though this bus wasn't exactly a fast vehicle, it was likely to maybe move some cars out of the way. The bus went as fast as it could and rammed one of the cars and turned it a bit and went through a chain-link gate.
Carlos continued to drive, with many guards firing at it, as well as a helicopter flying over it yelling for it to stop. As soon as they found the docks, they quickly got off the bus and went some stairs and found a boat.
Carlos told Vince to man the gun, while he would drive it out of there. When they got on, Vince saw a cellphone lying around, an Ill Wireless phone at that. He picked up and put it in one of his pockets. Vince got to the turret gun as Carlos started up the boat and they started sailing on the water.
But it wasn't the end of it. A couple of police boats emerged from a cave at the base of the island, and the same helicopter now flew over the water. It was time to make it to shore, to the mainland if you will. Vince fired so many rounds at any police chopper and boat he could see. Carlos kept on driving the boat as fast as he could. Even he knew that this was no speedboat.
After he cleared everything out, he looked around the city. Some of it looked the same, some looked different, and one part definitely looked different than how he remembered it. It was only in the after hours, but some parts of Stilwater had a lot of colorful lights, like downtown and the hotels and marina district.
But this area did not resemble anything he remembered. He got to the bow of the boat to get a closer look.
"That's the Row?" Vince said.
"It is now," Carlos said.
"Damn, when did this happen?" Vince said.
"When Ultor got involved," Carlos said.
"The clothing company?" Vince said.
"Let me tell you something," Carlos said. "After Hughes was killed in that bomb that you were in, Ultor picked up all the pieces. Now they're everywhere, on TV, on billboards, in stores. Shit, if you ever forget who Ultor is, all you have to do is look towards Saint's Row and you'll see that fucking eyesore."
Carlos pointed right at the tallest building in Saint's Row. It was black and had an orange glow around it, like it had orange lighting on it.
"Man, that's fucked up," Vince said, after coming to a realization of the time that had passed since he had been in a coma.
Carlos pulled up next to a dock. They both got off the boat and started walking.
"Where can I find the other Saints?" Vince said.
"What other Saints?" Carlos said.
"What do you mean?" Vince said.
"Without a leader, the Saints fell apart," Carlos said. "Once the Brotherhood, Ronin, and Sons of Samedi showed up, anybody left dropped their flags before they got killed, got put in jail, or maybe blew town, if they were lucky on that last part."
"Well that's fucking great," Vince said.
"Look, I know you didn't ask for it, but my advice is to keep out of sight and your head down," Carlos said. "The cops will look for you and shit has changed. I'd say you just go buy a beer and find any information as you can."
"Thanks, Carlos," Vince said.
"No problem," Carlos said. "I'll go see if my brother is still around or at least find any old friends. I need to lie low myself. I took a phone off one of the guards. I'll give you a number to reach me."
"Sure thing, I took this off the boat," Vince said.
After they exchanged numbers, Carlos walked off. It was now time for Vince to keep a low profile and see how much had changed.