Max Payne II
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter I: The Breakout
The snow had just begun to fall. Max Payne sat in his cell at the New York maximum security prison. It was getting close to dinner time, Max stood up from his cot and walked to the bars, the guard was making his rounds with a cart filled with trays. Max studied his movements. The guard wheeled the cart toward Max's cell. "Dinner?" The guard asked. Max looked down at the dry meatloaf. "Sure," Max answered in his monotone voice. The guard opened the slot and stuck the tray through the slot. "Thanks," Max said, seizing the tray. Max sprung forward and grabbed the sleeve of the guard's shirt; he reached through the bars and grabbed a metal fork from the cart, then sticking the fork into the guard's neck then into his back. The guard fell to the ground, dead. Max yanked the keycard from the guard's belt and slid it through the slot. The door slid open and Max dragged the guard into the cell and stripped the guard of his uniform, Max then took off his own orange jumpsuit and stuffed it into the toilet. Max changed into the guard's uniform. He picked the guard off of the floor and laid him on the bed, pulling the blankets over him. He walked calmly out of the cell, locking it behind him. He looked around to make sure that no other guards were around. Max opened a door near the end of the hall of cells. When he entered the room he realized quickly that he had made a mistake; the room was a lounge for the prison guards. He saw three guards sitting at a small table drinking coffee; he quickly turned back around, covering his face with his hand. "Hey, Campbell!" One of the men said. Max looked at the nametag on his shirt, B. Campbell. He reached slowly for the Beretta that was hanging in its holster from his belt. Max swiftly yanked his gun out and turned. He fired two bullets at one guard, and then dove behind a desk, firing another bullet at a different guard while in the air, hitting the guard in the face. Max leapt over the desk and shot four bullets at the last guard. The bullets tore through the guard's stomach and chest, blood splattered on the wall behind him. Max grabbed a discarded Beretta that was lying on the floor, and then emptied the clips of the other guns into a NYPD duffel bag that had been sitting on the floor. Max closed the door and looked around the room; he noticed an air duct that was wide enough that he could fit inside. As he opened the duct he heard two voices coming from outside the door, he hastily ripped the cover from the wall and dove into the vent. Just then, a police officer pushed on the door. "Hello?!" He yelled, pushing twisting the knob. "Is anyone in there?" Max rapidly crawled through the vent. The officer outside banged on the door and pushed harder, the chair holding the door snapped and the door swung open, two guards entered with pistols drawn. Meanwhile, Max was nearing the end of the vent. He pushed the cover off of the end and hopped down from the duct. He was in a garage; two police cruisers sat parked adjacent to each other. Max walked to a bench in the corner of the garage, he seized a screwdriver and a lighter along with a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. As he lit up a cigarette he heard loud footsteps. The garage burst open, four police officers with sawed - off shotguns dashed in. "There he is!" One of them shouted. Max grabbed a can of WD - 40 and dove behind one of the cruisers, an officer ran towards Max, Max took the lighter from his pocket, lit it and raised it to the can, he pressed down on the nozzle, the flammable WD - 40 sprayed out, creating a crude flamethrower. He aimed at the face of the officer and sprayed, the officer fell to the ground screaming. Max dropped the can and pulled the two Berettas that were tucked in his belt. He jumped up and shot two officers, both headshots, then shot the officer who was burned, to put him out of his misery. The last officer ran around the car, Max ducked under the car and tripped him as he ran by. Max bounded from underneath the car and on top of the officer. He lit up another cigarette. "Give me the gun." Max said calmly. "Go to h**l," The officer responded. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Max took the cigarette from his mouth and shoved it into the officer's eyes. Max grabbed the shotgun and jumped into one of the cruisers; he took the screwdriver and pried off the panel under the steering wheel then connected two wires together, the car started. He reversed the car and ran over the last officer, who had been clutching his face. Max put the car in drive and broke through the garage door. He drove to the gate and stopped. An officer stepped out from a booth. "Name?" The guard asked. Max looked down at the nametag on the uniform. "B. Campbell." The guard skimmed down a list, then looked at Max suspiciously, then skimmed the list again. Max grasped a Beretta. The guard walked toward the car with a flashlight, then shined the light into the car. Max revealed the Berretta and pointed it at the guard. "Just open the godd**n gate!" Max said quietly. The guard glanced at the gun and walked back to the booth. The guard pressed a button and the gate slid open. Max put the gun on the passenger seat and drove away, smiling.
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter II: The Old Haunts
Max parked in the driveway and got out of the police car, picking up the Beretta off of the seat and putting in a new clip. He was at his house, what used to be his house. He walked to the front door, which had been boarded up, and looked through a window, but couldn't see inside, dirt and dust caked the window. He pulled off a few planks that were covering the door, and then picked up the welcome mat. The key was still there, just where he had always kept the spare key. He unlocked the door and walked in. As he walked down the hallway he saw the Valkyr symbol, tattooed on the wall, scrawled in black magic marker, a reminder. After staring at it for more than a minute, he angrily tore the wallpaper off of the wall. He walked through a doorway into a wider hallway. Paintings and photos that used to hang on the wall lay broken on the floor, the phone were he had received the phone call was covered with dust. Max walked into the living room and up the stairs, where the junkies had killed Max's wife and baby girl. He walked into the bathroom, but exited and went into the baby's room when he heard a voice coming from the master bedroom. He opened the door to the master bedroom and drew his gun, he tried to flip on the light, but it had no power. "Who's there?!" Max shouted. "Oh, their after me, their after me because I know, I know. They're going to get me, their going to kill me. All because I know, I know it all!" A voice coming from the darkness said. "Who's there, who is that?" Max said again. A man emerged from the darkness of the room. The man looked like a homeless person, dressed in a tattered brown trench coat and black pants, wearing one shoe. "Who are you?" Max asked. The man muttered something. Max noticed a small vile in the man's hand. "What's that?" Max pointed at the vile. The man said nothing; Max grabbed the vile and popped the cap off of it. As he sniffed it he realized what it was, Valkyr. "Where'd you get this?" Max said. The man shrugged. "I said where the f**k did you get this?!" Max yanked the gun from his belt and stuck it in the man's face. "Rigato," The man replied, trembling. "Who's Rigato?" Max asked, lowering his gun a little. "Rigato, dealer, Valkyr," The man said, still trembling. He suddenly snatched the vile from Max's hand and ran around Max and out the door. Max went back down to the living room and retrieved a flashlight out of a drawer, then went back to the Master bedroom. He shined the light inside the room and looked at the mattress that the man had been sleeping on; it was Max's, the mattress where he found his wife's body. He looked at the blood stain on the mattress, just then Max knew what he had to do.
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter III: Everybody Loves Rigato
Max walked to his chest of drawers, hoping that he would find some clothes so he could change out of the police uniform. He found a pair of black pants and a white t - shirt, after putting them on he looked in his closet and found a long black trench coat. As he got into the police cruiser he became conscious that the police would be able to find him. He started the car, trying to think of some way to get another car, he had no money. As he braked at a stoplight he looked to the car next to him, a Mercedes Benz, he had an idea. When the driver glanced at Max, Max signaled for him to pull over, then Max got out of the car. "Sir," Max said, "I'm going to need your car . . . police business." "No way," The man replied. Max opened the door and pulled the man from the car and threw him to the ground. "What the h**l, man?!" Max ran back to the police car and grabbed the duffel bag containing the guns and ammo. Max pulled a Beretta out of the bag and pointed it at the man, who was still lying on the ground next to the car; the man looked at him in disbelief. "What do you think now, punk?" Max said shoving the gun closer to the man's face. The Man held out the car keys. "Thanks," Max said, taking the keys and getting into the car. As Max started the car he looked across the street to the television store, in the large picture window sat several TV's, all showing Max's face on the screen. He got back out of the car and walked to the store. The Television's captions told the story. ". . . Escaped from the New York maximum security prison, leaving eight people dead. He is considered armed and dangerous, if you spot him please call the police and remember you can remain anonymous, a fifty thousand dollar reward is being offered to anyone who gives the tip that catches this madman." Max turned around, the man whom he had carjacked was standing behind him, the man looked at Max. Max pulled the Beretta from his trench coat. The man stared at Max. "C - Come on man, I won't tell anyone. I don't want to die, c'mon, I swear." "I can't take the chance," Max raised the gun and shot the man point blank in the chest. Max ran back to the car and started the engine. He drove slowly by the man's body; a small crowd had already gathered around the man's body, a woman pointed to Max's car, Max floored the pedal and sped away, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. As Max drove by an alley next to an abandoned building he noticed several junkies sitting next to a dumpster, having what looked like a Valkyr high, incessant muttering but very calm. Max pulled his car to the curb and got out of the car, he walked over to the junkies. "Hey! Hey, where'd you get the stuff?" Max pointed to some empty viles that were lying on the ground next to the junkies. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, the stuff, stuff, we got the stuff. We got the stuff, the stuff! Yeah, Valkyr, the stuff, we got some Valkyr. We got it . . . Rigato; we got it from Rigato, Rigato." One of the junkies said, his whole body violently shaking. "Where is he?" Max asked. "Oh, Rigato, there," The junkie pointed to a large grey business building across the street. Max thanked the junkie and walked across the street to the building. As Max walked through the door a large Italian - looking man wearing a black suit and carrying an Ingram stopped him. "Who are you?" The man demanded. "I'm looking for Rigato," Max replied. "Do you have an appointment?" The man reached for a clipboard that was sitting on a small table next to him. Max swiftly pulled his Beretta and shoved it in the man's face. "Give me the gun." Max said. The man held the Ingram out to Max, who grabbed it and put it in his trench coat. "Now, here's what we're going to do, your going to let me see Rigato and then your going to walk out that door and sit on the curb out there until I'm done with Rigato." "I - I can't do that, Rigato would kill me." The man said. Max shoved the gun closer to his face. When Max walked up the stairs to the second floor a bullet nearly missed his head, two men with Desert Eagles were guarding a room, Max guessed it was Rigato's office. Max ducked behind a metal trashcan and inserted a new clip into his Beretta. Max stood up and fired two shots, wounding one of the men in the arm, then shot three more shots, hitting the guard in the chest and neck. The second guard took two shots and hit Max's hand; the Beretta fell to the grey cement floor. Max pulled the Ingram from his coat and fired at the man's head, killing him. Max gathered the discarded Desert Eagles from the floor then took a handkerchief from one of the men's suit pocket and wrapped it around his injured hand. Carrying one of the Desert Eagles Max pushed Rigato's office door open, no one was there. Max walked in further and heard breathing coming from under a large wooden desk. He walked to the desk and pulled a small Italian man in a black pinstriped suit out from under the desk, Max put the Desert Eagle to the man's chest. "Rigato?" Max asked. "No, h - he's gone, he heard the gun fight and went out the fire escape." The man pointed to a window. "Who the h**l are you?" Max demanded. "I'm uh, Anthony, I'm Rigato's uh, assistant." The man said. Max pushed to man to the floor and ran to the window, outside was a fire escape that lead to an alley that was littered with trash cans and stacks of newspapers, Rigato was nowhere to be seen. Max turned around and looked at Anthony. "Where's he going?" Max asked. "I can't tell you," Anthony replied. Max pointed the gun at him. "I said where the f**k is he going?!" Max shouted. "He's got a place down at the docks, that's where he's probably going, b - but I don't know." Anthony trembled in fear. "Now Rigato's going to have my legs broken." Max, feeling some compassion, took the other Desert Eagle from his trench coat and dropped it in Anthony's lap. "Here," Max said, "If someone comes for you." Max turned and walked out of the room. Anthony smiled menacingly and pointed the gun at Max, who was walking out of the room. He pulled the hammer back and pulled the trigger, the gun clicked but no bullet came out. Max turned around, hearing the gun click. Anthony pulled the clip from the gun, it was empty. "Oh, s**t, I guess I forgot the bullets." Max said sarcastically, yanking the Desert Eagle from Anthony's hand. "You son of a b**ch," Max picked Anthony up from the floor by his shirt collar then threw him through the two story window, Max looked out, Anthony was sprawled on the ground, bruised and bloodied, not moving. Max turned back and walked out of the door.
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter I: The Breakout
The snow had just begun to fall. Max Payne sat in his cell at the New York maximum security prison. It was getting close to dinner time, Max stood up from his cot and walked to the bars, the guard was making his rounds with a cart filled with trays. Max studied his movements. The guard wheeled the cart toward Max's cell. "Dinner?" The guard asked. Max looked down at the dry meatloaf. "Sure," Max answered in his monotone voice. The guard opened the slot and stuck the tray through the slot. "Thanks," Max said, seizing the tray. Max sprung forward and grabbed the sleeve of the guard's shirt; he reached through the bars and grabbed a metal fork from the cart, then sticking the fork into the guard's neck then into his back. The guard fell to the ground, dead. Max yanked the keycard from the guard's belt and slid it through the slot. The door slid open and Max dragged the guard into the cell and stripped the guard of his uniform, Max then took off his own orange jumpsuit and stuffed it into the toilet. Max changed into the guard's uniform. He picked the guard off of the floor and laid him on the bed, pulling the blankets over him. He walked calmly out of the cell, locking it behind him. He looked around to make sure that no other guards were around. Max opened a door near the end of the hall of cells. When he entered the room he realized quickly that he had made a mistake; the room was a lounge for the prison guards. He saw three guards sitting at a small table drinking coffee; he quickly turned back around, covering his face with his hand. "Hey, Campbell!" One of the men said. Max looked at the nametag on his shirt, B. Campbell. He reached slowly for the Beretta that was hanging in its holster from his belt. Max swiftly yanked his gun out and turned. He fired two bullets at one guard, and then dove behind a desk, firing another bullet at a different guard while in the air, hitting the guard in the face. Max leapt over the desk and shot four bullets at the last guard. The bullets tore through the guard's stomach and chest, blood splattered on the wall behind him. Max grabbed a discarded Beretta that was lying on the floor, and then emptied the clips of the other guns into a NYPD duffel bag that had been sitting on the floor. Max closed the door and looked around the room; he noticed an air duct that was wide enough that he could fit inside. As he opened the duct he heard two voices coming from outside the door, he hastily ripped the cover from the wall and dove into the vent. Just then, a police officer pushed on the door. "Hello?!" He yelled, pushing twisting the knob. "Is anyone in there?" Max rapidly crawled through the vent. The officer outside banged on the door and pushed harder, the chair holding the door snapped and the door swung open, two guards entered with pistols drawn. Meanwhile, Max was nearing the end of the vent. He pushed the cover off of the end and hopped down from the duct. He was in a garage; two police cruisers sat parked adjacent to each other. Max walked to a bench in the corner of the garage, he seized a screwdriver and a lighter along with a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. As he lit up a cigarette he heard loud footsteps. The garage burst open, four police officers with sawed - off shotguns dashed in. "There he is!" One of them shouted. Max grabbed a can of WD - 40 and dove behind one of the cruisers, an officer ran towards Max, Max took the lighter from his pocket, lit it and raised it to the can, he pressed down on the nozzle, the flammable WD - 40 sprayed out, creating a crude flamethrower. He aimed at the face of the officer and sprayed, the officer fell to the ground screaming. Max dropped the can and pulled the two Berettas that were tucked in his belt. He jumped up and shot two officers, both headshots, then shot the officer who was burned, to put him out of his misery. The last officer ran around the car, Max ducked under the car and tripped him as he ran by. Max bounded from underneath the car and on top of the officer. He lit up another cigarette. "Give me the gun." Max said calmly. "Go to h**l," The officer responded. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Max took the cigarette from his mouth and shoved it into the officer's eyes. Max grabbed the shotgun and jumped into one of the cruisers; he took the screwdriver and pried off the panel under the steering wheel then connected two wires together, the car started. He reversed the car and ran over the last officer, who had been clutching his face. Max put the car in drive and broke through the garage door. He drove to the gate and stopped. An officer stepped out from a booth. "Name?" The guard asked. Max looked down at the nametag on the uniform. "B. Campbell." The guard skimmed down a list, then looked at Max suspiciously, then skimmed the list again. Max grasped a Beretta. The guard walked toward the car with a flashlight, then shined the light into the car. Max revealed the Berretta and pointed it at the guard. "Just open the godd**n gate!" Max said quietly. The guard glanced at the gun and walked back to the booth. The guard pressed a button and the gate slid open. Max put the gun on the passenger seat and drove away, smiling.
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter II: The Old Haunts
Max parked in the driveway and got out of the police car, picking up the Beretta off of the seat and putting in a new clip. He was at his house, what used to be his house. He walked to the front door, which had been boarded up, and looked through a window, but couldn't see inside, dirt and dust caked the window. He pulled off a few planks that were covering the door, and then picked up the welcome mat. The key was still there, just where he had always kept the spare key. He unlocked the door and walked in. As he walked down the hallway he saw the Valkyr symbol, tattooed on the wall, scrawled in black magic marker, a reminder. After staring at it for more than a minute, he angrily tore the wallpaper off of the wall. He walked through a doorway into a wider hallway. Paintings and photos that used to hang on the wall lay broken on the floor, the phone were he had received the phone call was covered with dust. Max walked into the living room and up the stairs, where the junkies had killed Max's wife and baby girl. He walked into the bathroom, but exited and went into the baby's room when he heard a voice coming from the master bedroom. He opened the door to the master bedroom and drew his gun, he tried to flip on the light, but it had no power. "Who's there?!" Max shouted. "Oh, their after me, their after me because I know, I know. They're going to get me, their going to kill me. All because I know, I know it all!" A voice coming from the darkness said. "Who's there, who is that?" Max said again. A man emerged from the darkness of the room. The man looked like a homeless person, dressed in a tattered brown trench coat and black pants, wearing one shoe. "Who are you?" Max asked. The man muttered something. Max noticed a small vile in the man's hand. "What's that?" Max pointed at the vile. The man said nothing; Max grabbed the vile and popped the cap off of it. As he sniffed it he realized what it was, Valkyr. "Where'd you get this?" Max said. The man shrugged. "I said where the f**k did you get this?!" Max yanked the gun from his belt and stuck it in the man's face. "Rigato," The man replied, trembling. "Who's Rigato?" Max asked, lowering his gun a little. "Rigato, dealer, Valkyr," The man said, still trembling. He suddenly snatched the vile from Max's hand and ran around Max and out the door. Max went back down to the living room and retrieved a flashlight out of a drawer, then went back to the Master bedroom. He shined the light inside the room and looked at the mattress that the man had been sleeping on; it was Max's, the mattress where he found his wife's body. He looked at the blood stain on the mattress, just then Max knew what he had to do.
Part I: A Snowball in Hell
Chapter III: Everybody Loves Rigato
Max walked to his chest of drawers, hoping that he would find some clothes so he could change out of the police uniform. He found a pair of black pants and a white t - shirt, after putting them on he looked in his closet and found a long black trench coat. As he got into the police cruiser he became conscious that the police would be able to find him. He started the car, trying to think of some way to get another car, he had no money. As he braked at a stoplight he looked to the car next to him, a Mercedes Benz, he had an idea. When the driver glanced at Max, Max signaled for him to pull over, then Max got out of the car. "Sir," Max said, "I'm going to need your car . . . police business." "No way," The man replied. Max opened the door and pulled the man from the car and threw him to the ground. "What the h**l, man?!" Max ran back to the police car and grabbed the duffel bag containing the guns and ammo. Max pulled a Beretta out of the bag and pointed it at the man, who was still lying on the ground next to the car; the man looked at him in disbelief. "What do you think now, punk?" Max said shoving the gun closer to the man's face. The Man held out the car keys. "Thanks," Max said, taking the keys and getting into the car. As Max started the car he looked across the street to the television store, in the large picture window sat several TV's, all showing Max's face on the screen. He got back out of the car and walked to the store. The Television's captions told the story. ". . . Escaped from the New York maximum security prison, leaving eight people dead. He is considered armed and dangerous, if you spot him please call the police and remember you can remain anonymous, a fifty thousand dollar reward is being offered to anyone who gives the tip that catches this madman." Max turned around, the man whom he had carjacked was standing behind him, the man looked at Max. Max pulled the Beretta from his trench coat. The man stared at Max. "C - Come on man, I won't tell anyone. I don't want to die, c'mon, I swear." "I can't take the chance," Max raised the gun and shot the man point blank in the chest. Max ran back to the car and started the engine. He drove slowly by the man's body; a small crowd had already gathered around the man's body, a woman pointed to Max's car, Max floored the pedal and sped away, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. As Max drove by an alley next to an abandoned building he noticed several junkies sitting next to a dumpster, having what looked like a Valkyr high, incessant muttering but very calm. Max pulled his car to the curb and got out of the car, he walked over to the junkies. "Hey! Hey, where'd you get the stuff?" Max pointed to some empty viles that were lying on the ground next to the junkies. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, the stuff, stuff, we got the stuff. We got the stuff, the stuff! Yeah, Valkyr, the stuff, we got some Valkyr. We got it . . . Rigato; we got it from Rigato, Rigato." One of the junkies said, his whole body violently shaking. "Where is he?" Max asked. "Oh, Rigato, there," The junkie pointed to a large grey business building across the street. Max thanked the junkie and walked across the street to the building. As Max walked through the door a large Italian - looking man wearing a black suit and carrying an Ingram stopped him. "Who are you?" The man demanded. "I'm looking for Rigato," Max replied. "Do you have an appointment?" The man reached for a clipboard that was sitting on a small table next to him. Max swiftly pulled his Beretta and shoved it in the man's face. "Give me the gun." Max said. The man held the Ingram out to Max, who grabbed it and put it in his trench coat. "Now, here's what we're going to do, your going to let me see Rigato and then your going to walk out that door and sit on the curb out there until I'm done with Rigato." "I - I can't do that, Rigato would kill me." The man said. Max shoved the gun closer to his face. When Max walked up the stairs to the second floor a bullet nearly missed his head, two men with Desert Eagles were guarding a room, Max guessed it was Rigato's office. Max ducked behind a metal trashcan and inserted a new clip into his Beretta. Max stood up and fired two shots, wounding one of the men in the arm, then shot three more shots, hitting the guard in the chest and neck. The second guard took two shots and hit Max's hand; the Beretta fell to the grey cement floor. Max pulled the Ingram from his coat and fired at the man's head, killing him. Max gathered the discarded Desert Eagles from the floor then took a handkerchief from one of the men's suit pocket and wrapped it around his injured hand. Carrying one of the Desert Eagles Max pushed Rigato's office door open, no one was there. Max walked in further and heard breathing coming from under a large wooden desk. He walked to the desk and pulled a small Italian man in a black pinstriped suit out from under the desk, Max put the Desert Eagle to the man's chest. "Rigato?" Max asked. "No, h - he's gone, he heard the gun fight and went out the fire escape." The man pointed to a window. "Who the h**l are you?" Max demanded. "I'm uh, Anthony, I'm Rigato's uh, assistant." The man said. Max pushed to man to the floor and ran to the window, outside was a fire escape that lead to an alley that was littered with trash cans and stacks of newspapers, Rigato was nowhere to be seen. Max turned around and looked at Anthony. "Where's he going?" Max asked. "I can't tell you," Anthony replied. Max pointed the gun at him. "I said where the f**k is he going?!" Max shouted. "He's got a place down at the docks, that's where he's probably going, b - but I don't know." Anthony trembled in fear. "Now Rigato's going to have my legs broken." Max, feeling some compassion, took the other Desert Eagle from his trench coat and dropped it in Anthony's lap. "Here," Max said, "If someone comes for you." Max turned and walked out of the room. Anthony smiled menacingly and pointed the gun at Max, who was walking out of the room. He pulled the hammer back and pulled the trigger, the gun clicked but no bullet came out. Max turned around, hearing the gun click. Anthony pulled the clip from the gun, it was empty. "Oh, s**t, I guess I forgot the bullets." Max said sarcastically, yanking the Desert Eagle from Anthony's hand. "You son of a b**ch," Max picked Anthony up from the floor by his shirt collar then threw him through the two story window, Max looked out, Anthony was sprawled on the ground, bruised and bloodied, not moving. Max turned back and walked out of the door.
